#mon x draven

[astromechs]

may i humbly request a mon x literally anyone you feel like? i love any and all content featuring my space wife <3

so. i got mon/draven in my head, and now this became a 1k oneshot. also on ao3, actually also tagging @andorerso in this because i'm going to take the other option on your prompt, but here is a bonus of mon/draven 💕

Soon, the base on Yavin IV will have to be evacuated in its entirety. To where, no one knows; there hasn't been enough personnel to form teams that could scout locations or to analyze the data they would find. Even if there were, though, there's always the matter of time.

The matter of time, which is always against them.

Still, the sounds of celebration continue to pierce the walls and shake the floor under their feet. A victory, especially one this significant, merits it; it's come at a cost, greater than most will ever know, but it's still a victory, and everyone here has had a role to play in it. Everyone here has earned their right to celebrate.

Even if the Empire, of course, is still out there, lurking closer than ever, with a firm Alliance location fixed in their databases that they will return to before long (the matter, again, of time), Mon will leave everyone be — if only for one night.

She's made her requisite appearance and delivered her requisite words, has smiled at their remaining numbers and given the energy of inspiration like any competent leader should, but it'd all burned out the instant she'd turned away. Her heart, heavy since the council meeting (heavy for more years than she can count up to this point), had not found, and still does not find, itself buoyed by the mood; the cost is a mark that is not so easily wiped clean.

As she slips away, into the corridors, she thinks of Jyn Erso, the woman they'd failed in so many ways, but perhaps most egregiously at the end, who'll now never get to live to see the results of her conviction; she thinks of Captain Cassian Andor, their best and brightest, a man who, in the time that she's known him, has shown nothing but unwavering dedication to exactly what this cause requires, even if it'd taken pieces of him that he'll never have the opportunity to put back together. She thinks of everyone who had gone with them to Scarif, the souls brave enough to act, no matter what, even when their own council could not. She thinks of the pilots who had not touched down on the surface of Yavin IV — the majority of the number that had taken off.

The assault on the Death Star is a victory against a seemingly unbeatable enemy, but it's difficult to think of it as an unambiguous win, no matter how much the Luthens and others of their movement would deem that thought naive.

Still, that's war — and far from the chambers of the Galactic Senate, she knows that now, with unquestioning certainty.

So, too, does the man sitting behind a desk in the office that Mon has found herself stepping into.

She can't remember a time when General Davits Draven hasn't looked tired and haggard, but here, in the low light of the power-savers, he's wearing years of cumulatively acquired exhaustion everywhere on his face; the circles under his eyes have somehow become more pronounced even over the past few days, his skin more sunken, hollow. There are two glasses with Corellian brandy on his desk, one mostly full, with his fingers wrapped loosely around the base, and the other just slightly off to the side, completely untouched.

Most in the Alliance would think of him as hard and cold, the sort of man one would depend on to make quick calls and snap decisions that might toe the lines of morality — at least for those who, like her, had come from softer beginnings. But hard and cold when needed, able to put aside sentiment for the sake of the greater good, doesn't mean that the sentiment isn't there; he cares for the subordinates under his command, looks out for them as much as he is able, and even if he may be reluctant to show, under that exterior, he has a heart that aches.

He's taken these losses hard; that much is clear. Beyond that, Mon has to infer, but it's a good guess that he's taken the loss of Captain Andor, someone he'd personally mentored for years, the hardest of all.

It says a great deal that he allows her to brush her hand against his when she approaches the desk, that he allows her to linger there for a moment before she gently drags it away, taking the untouched glass instead. It says a great deal that she can see a flicker of emotion in his face, a twitch of his jaw, before he hides it behind the rim of his glass, swallowing down half of its contents in one gulp, and hardly so much as even clearing his throat once he does.

Mon doesn't quite follow suit, but she stays close, leaning against the edge of the desk, taking a few sips herself. It's, specifically, from the bottle she'd gifted him once, several years ago — apparently saved until now. One might call it a special occasion, a celebration, but of course she knows better.

This is no more a celebration than the face she'd put on before quietly exiting the festivities. It's a requiem.

One moment carved out of time that's always running against them, because it's one moment that's critical for the sake of maintaining their humanity.

The chrono flashes, changing on the wall, emphasizing just how much those seconds are ticking away, but Mon says nothing, occasionally glancing out of the corner of her eye, until she, eventually, drains the contents of her glass and sets it back down onto the surface of the desk with a gentle clink.

Until her voice finally finds her again; it's shaky, hesitant under a mask that few can be allowed to see past, for the sake of their movement's survival — especially at such a crucial moment. But here and only here, she asks, "What now?"

Draven sets his glass down as well. His back straightens in his chair, and his hollowed face fills with purpose.

"Now," he says. "We have a war to win."

[mostthingskenobi]

CASSIAN'S RECKONING - Chapter 19: The Hologram

CHAPTER SUMMARY: We finally learn why Jyn wasn't put on leave. It is not fun.

Thank you again to dear Adela for helping me with the Spanish/Kenari 💜

READ THE FIC ON AO3

THIS IS A WHUMPY FIC W/GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. PLEASE HEED THE TAGS ON AO3.

——————–

CHAPTER 19: THE HOLOGRAM

The next morning as Jyn walked to the intelligence ready room her head was full of Cassian, remembering how his body felt strong and solid against hers. Even after Tarkin’s torture, he still radiated strength.

What had he whispered to her in Kenari? Not knowing was driving her a little mad, sending her heart racing every time she thought about the husky words that had growled in the back of his throat.

She realized she was smiling like an idiot and forcefully relaxed her face, suppressing the giddiness that fluttered in her chest. Jyn’s mind needed to be sharp; meetings with Draven always contained a particularly annoying kind of stress. As she approached the Intelligence sector, she rolled her shoulders back before walking in.

Jyn was surprised to find a full room. She had expected only to speak with the general, but several officers, a team of analysts, and even Mon Mothma was present. Except for the holo table’s green glow the room was dark.

“Ah, Erso, there you are,” Draven said, signaling for the group to be silent and form up around the holoprojector. “Thank you for coming.”

Jyn nodded but didn’t say anything; she was still new to an organized military and didn’t have the patience to play along with their little formalities.

“Everything that is said in this meeting is classified,” Draven spoke loudly and clearly. “Whatever is discussed here today stays here. Understood?”

The room gave their consent.

“Lieutenant,” he said, speaking directly to Jyn, “the team standing here,” he waved at the collection of people surrounding the holo table, “has been tasked with analyzing Commander Andor’s interrogation.”

Apprehension gripped her instantly. She didn’t know what she’d expected from a meeting with Draven, but this hadn’t been it.

“They’ve found some troubling information.”

The general paused but Jyn couldn’t think of a single polite response so she kept her mouth shut.

Draven soldiered on. “Did you ever have any interaction with Grand Moff Tarkin?”

“Excuse me?” she blurted out in shocked artlessness.

The entire room stared at her, waiting for an answer.

She almost wanted to laugh. What would a gutter rat like her have to do with Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin? “Of course not,” she finally said, providing a reply she thought should have been obvious.

“Did your father?”

“How would I know?” she snapped.

“You have no memories of him meeting with your father when you were a child?”

“This is absurd!” she scoffed.

“Jyn,” Mon Mothma said gently, “you’re not under suspicion. Please trust that there is a reason for these questions.”

Though she wanted to believe Mothma, Jyn also recognized she had very little recourse; refusing to answer her superiors’ questions could ultimately make her life much harder. “No,” she said, repressing her anger, “from what I personally remember, I never saw Tarkin with my father. When I was a child, I didn’t even know who Tarkin was, so if my father did have dealings with him, I didn’t know it.”

Draven looked to Mon Mothma who nodded once. He turned back to Jyn. “We have something we’d like to show you.”

Dread took hold of Jyn, tension blooming across her chest and abdomen; she fought to suppress the shaking that had started in her hands and shoulders. She knew in her gut she didn’t want to see whatever Draven had in store.

“It’s upsetting, so please prepare yourself.”

How? she thought. How do I prepare myself?

The holoprojector flared to life and a bluish hologram of Cassian appeared in the center of the table.

Jyn couldn’t keep a pitiable gasp from escaping her throat.

He hung from his wrists, bare feet hardly touching the floor. Blood ran down his face and arms while he struggled to breathe. Tarkin was at the rebel’s side, snarling into his ear, “What is the girl’s name?” Cassian could only gasp in pain. Tarkin brutally ripped the young man’s head back by his hair. “Her name. Now.”

Cassian was stretched so far back he could scarcely catch his breath. “I don’t…” His voice shook as he struggled to find the words. “I can’t…”

A death trooper stepped into the image, blocking most of Andor from view. Jyn saw the glint of an unsheathed blade in the trooper’s fist and she clasped a shaking hand over her mouth to keep in a sob. The trooper’s body hid his actions, but whatever he did made Cassian scream in a way that brought bile into Jyn’s throat.

“Tell me who the girl is,” Tarkin demanded again.

“¡No puedo!” Cassian suddenly shouted.

Surprise registered on the Grand Moff’s face. “What language is that?” he asked, turning to the IT-O interrogator droid.

“A derivative of Kenari.”

Tarkin grabbed Cassian’s jaw with his free hand and tightened his grip on the rebel’s hair with his other. “You will answer in Basic.”

A sound escaped Cassian’s throat that reminded Jyn of a whimpering puppy.

“Again,” Tarkin said to the death trooper.

“¡No!” Cassian writhed, twisting away from the blade. “¡Se llama Jyn Erso!” he choked out in a barely coherent slur. “Jyn…Jyn Erso.” His chest made a horrible wheezing sound.

Jyn squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that spilled down her cheeks.

When had she started crying?

She turned away as the hologram continued. She couldn’t watch anymore.

“Did you say Erso?” Tarkin’s voice had become intrigued. “Andor, answer me.”

Cassian only moaned.

Jyn ran from the room, bursting into the antechamber and vomiting into the nearest trashcan. She wiped her face and stumbled into the corridor gasping, moving away as fast as she could from the nightmare she’d just been forced to watch. No air reached her lungs despite how hard she heaved. She turned into a more secluded sub-corridor and pressed face-first into a corner, covering her head with her arms as her gasps finally turned into sobs. Her brain could not process what she’d just seen; instead, all the pain and fear she’d been carrying for Cassian suddenly began to suffocate her.

She had no notion of how long she stood there; her awareness was completely internal, overwhelmed by the storm swarming in her chest. Jyn had seen terrible things in her life, unthinkable things. And she’d been no stranger to the Empire’s cruelty—Wobani alone was enough evidence of their ruthlessness to last a lifetime. But seeing these realities collide in Cassian was more than she could stomach. Not because he was pure or irreproachable, but because he was so self-possessed, because he was strong and because he reached for others when they lost their grip. He found her in the crumbling temple on Jedha, guiding her to safety; he forced her to escape from Eadu when he could have easily left her behind; he appeared at the top of the citadel on Scarif even though he was so injured he could barely walk. Cassian always came back for her.

I let him down, she railed against herself. I wasn’t there when he needed me.

The thought of the Empire torturing him simply to learn her name made Jyn want to vomit again.

Her strength drained away, her nails digging into the wall to keep her upright, when she heard a confused voice.

“Jyn?”

Cassian stood a few paces behind her.

She tried to speak but a strange croak came out instead of words; she could do nothing but tremble and gulp for air.

He instantly closed the distance between them, cupping her cheek and stooping down. “What’s happened?” he asked, his eyes full of worry.

She was too ashamed to meet his gaze. Her body shuddered as tears continued to stream down her face. Her brain struggled to reconcile the broken man in the hologram with the strong friend who stood before her.

Cassian’s voice softened. “Jyn?” He lifted her chin; when their eyes met, she began to cry harder. She was clearly too upset to speak so he tucked her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. “I’ve got you,” he whispered—their secret comfort language.

She pressed her palms flat against his chest, desperate to feel him solidly under her hands as she breathed against his throat. “You’re OK,” she sniffled, trying to root herself in his flesh and blood.

He was not exactly certain what she meant, but his keen instincts gave him a pretty good idea. “I am,” he reassured her.

“Lieutenant?”

Jyn didn’t dare move. One of Draven’s aides stood nearby but she was too embarrassed to face him. “What is it?” she asked, her head still tucked into Cassian’s chest.

His voice was apologetic. “General Draven asks you to please return to the ready room.”

“Tell him I’m coming.” She tried to sound calmer than she felt. “I just need another moment.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” The man turned and retreated up the corridor.

Cassian’s brain worked fast, connecting succedent data. “You already had your meeting with Draven?”

Jyn wrapped her fists into his jacket and held tight, fighting to get herself under control. “Technically, I’m still having it.”

He studied her, resting his lips on the top of her head—she smelled like warm amber and a rare flower, and Cassian was instantly reminded of falling asleep in her pillow last night.

“They showed you something,” he said quietly, “didn’t they?”

After a long pause she nodded.

“Something about you?”

When she nodded again, she felt Cassian’s chest contract under her hands.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was barely more than a whisper.

She finally forced herself to look him in the eye. His expression was full of guilt and she couldn’t stand it. “Don’t apologize to me,” she said firmly. “You did nothing wrong.” She hugged him tightly, pressing herself against his chest again, and he responded in kind, his arms encompassing her completely.

“I’m OK,” she whispered. “I’m OK.”

Cassian could tell Jyn was trying to convince herself.

“We’re OK.”

The PA system squawked and made them both jump. “Lieutenant Erso, please return to the ready room.”

“Wow,” Cassian snorted, “they really want you back.”

“Draven is a professional idiot,” Jyn muttered, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. She’d finally calmed and was trying to find a way of apologizing to Cassian.

He wanted to ask her questions, to find out exactly what upset her so deeply, but he couldn’t retrigger her, not when she clearly needed to command her emotions and get back to work. Instead, he placed his hand gently on her cheek before brushing some hair out of her eyelashes. “Come find me later.”

His touch soothed her further. She nodded her agreement. “As soon as I can get away.”

“You better go before they get mad.”

“They’re always mad,” Jyn scoffed as she let go of him.

He watched her disappear around the corner, flooded with a mix of emotions he found unsettling.

——————–

By the time Jyn returned to the ready room she had managed to slam her emotions into submission. She stared at Draven with hard eyes.

“I’m sorry to spring that on you,” the general said with uncharacteristically blatant sympathy.

“Why show me at all?”

“We thought it important you see with your own eyes that you’ve been compromised.”

“That’s a bit of an extreme take, don’t you think? Being an Erso has always had its risks. The Empire knowing my name doesn’t change anything. I can still do my job.”

“You’re right, to an extent.” His chin jutted up, evaluating her reactions. “I wasn’t sure you’d take our word for it if we simply told you. You’re not exactly trusting.”

“You’re not exactly truthful.”

The general flashed a wry smile. “Point taken.” He instantly returned to business. “We showed you the hologram for a reason. I have an assignment for you. You’re not going to like it but you’re going to do it anyway.”

Why is he always such a bastard?

“I want you to analyze Andor’s interrogation. We showed you this small segment of footage firstly so it wouldn’t catch you off guard while you work, and secondly to make you aware of Tarkin’s fixation with you.”

Jyn stared at him for a long while, disgusted beyond words. “No,” she finally said. “I won’t do it.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

Mon Mothma waved a lithe hand at Draven to silence him. “It’s a horrible thing to ask of you,” she said gently, looking directly into Jyn’s eyes. “I know Cassian is your… friend. But that friendship also gives you insight the rest of us do not have. You can read his body language, understand small or private references; you might spot something the rest of us have missed.”

“I can’t,” Jyn replied, shaking her head and even taking a step back. “It feels like a betrayal of trust.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Draven offered. “You cannot discuss your analysis with Andor until we’ve reviewed it, but you don’t have to keep the nature of your assignment a secret from him.”

“Oh, really?” Jyn mocked. “And how is that conversation supposed to go?”

“You can check your sarcasm at the door, Erso,” Draven said, finally having enough of her attitude. “You’re an officer in the Rebel Alliance and these are your orders.”

“I don’t want to watch this,” she blurted out, unable to hide the desperation in her voice.

“No one wants to watch this,” he said sharply, silencing her. “Every person in this room has a connection with Andor. He’s a friend, a colleague, a team member. He’s a good man, and every last one of us hates this recording.”

Jyn didn’t doubt Draven’s sincerity.

“Your insights could help protect the Rebellion,” Mothma said. “There’s always a chance that a person under duress may inadvertently divulge information. We would like you to keep an eye out for anything potentially compromising, even if it’s small. No detail left unturned.”

“Plus,” Draven continued, “we would like your opinion on Tarkin’s fascination with you.”

“Isn’t it because my name is Erso?”

“Tarkin didn’t know your name until Andor revealed it. You’ll see in the recordings that he’s repeatedly hounded about your identity.”

Jyn’s brow pulled together. She really didn’t care about Tarkin; her real worry was what Cassian would think if he knew she was watching the most vulnerable moments of his life. “I don’t want this assignment,” she tried again to refuse. “You have far more qualified analysts right here.”

Draven reached the end of his compassion. “Either you do your job or we’re done. We won’t bother wasting resources by throwing you in the brig. I’ll kick you off this ship and you’ll never come back. Do we understand each other?”

Jyn knew that he really meant he’d separated her from Cassian and the rest of Rogue One. For a moment she considered calling the general’s bluff, but, in all honesty, she figured Draven would actually make good on his threat. She quickly decided disobeying orders wasn’t worth the risk of losing her found family.

“There’s a considerable amount of footage for you work through.” He turned to an aide. “Get her set up as soon as we’re done here.”

“You’re making me start straight away?” Jyn asked in disbelief. This day had not remotely gone how she’d hoped.

“The sooner you start, the sooner you finish. It’s going to take you days, so get going.”

She stared daggers at him but held her tongue. Jyn didn’t hate Draven; she knew he was doing his best in a nearly impossible job. But sometimes she really wanted to punch him in the face.

“That’ll be all,” he said with finality.

Draven’s aide came forward and led Jyn out of the room.

——————–

END NOTES

NEXT CHAPTER IS CALLED “THE DIVIDE” - How will things be with Rogue One now that Jyn has started her horrible assignment?

Thank you for reading!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are very welcome!

Much love!

——————–

READ IT ON AO3- Kudos and Comments Welcome :-)

READ CHAPTER 1 “The Razor”

READ CHAPTER 2 “The Scythe”

READ CHAPTER 3 “The Cold”

READ CHAPTER 4 “The Expendable”

READ CHAPTER 5 “The Truth”

READ CHAPTER 6 “The Detritus”

READ CHAPTER 7 “The Salt”

READ CHAPTER 8 “The Power”

READ CHAPTER 9 “The Betrayal”

REACH CHAPTER 10 “The Ruse”

READ CHAPTER 11 “The Reprieve”

READ CHAPTER 12 “The Ghosts”

READ CHAPTER 13 “The Redemption”

READ CHAPTER 14 “The Spoils”

READ CHAPTER 15 “The Interrogation”

READ CHAPTER 16 “The Rogues”

READ CHAPTER 17 “The Absolution”

READ CHAPTER 18 “The Reach”

READ CHAPTER 19 "The Hologram"

READ CHAPTER 20 “The Divide”

READ CHAPTER 21 “The Cost”

READ CHAPTER 22 “The Fallout”

READ CHAPTER 23 “The Wounds”

READ CHAPTER 24 “The Hand”

READ CHAPTER 25 “The Heart”

READ CHAPTER 26 “The Beginning”

[andorerso]

You know... Bix x Melshi is something I never considered before. 👀 Hahaha, and as a multi shipper I'll add it to my list of rare pairs, next to Bix x Brasso.

P.S.: Can you recommend me any other SW rare pairs to consider? 👀

hmm my ultimate one is Mon/Draven, I just love the potential of that dynamic. I've also seen the OT3 version of them with Merrick.

Then there's Saw/Luthen or Vel/Kleya, though I'm sure you've seen those before. I also saw Mon/Kleya, oh and Mon/Lyra once in a ship bingo and tbh, obsessed with that idea. Mon is just very shippable I think.

I'm very fond of Bodhi/Luke too, and some other RO/OT pairings could be Cass/Leia and Jyn/Leia. I know Han/Jyn and Luke/Jyn also exists, though I'm personally not a fan of either, but hey, you do you! Maybe Cassian/Han? I've also seen Cassian/Draven before.

There's also maybe Lyra/Saw (you could throw in Galen for an OT3). Jyn/Cinta... Kleya/Leia? Their names kinda make it weird but I kinda dig it.

And as a bonus, two absolute wild cards that I just came up with on the spot: Lyra/Draven and Brasso/Jyn.

[barnes-dameron]

I Think of You

Chapter One: The Beginning

Soccer player!Cassian Andor x physical therapist!reader

Summary: You came to this country to learn the language and find work to pay off for school, nothing else. Getting a job as a physical therapist for the National soccer team was a plus and getting to see the star player, Cassian Andor, was a major plus as well. But what happens when your visa expires and immigration is on your tail? Your only hope resides in Cassian, who is more than willing to marry you until you can get your green card. What can go wrong?

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: This is going to be a series but I don’t know how long will it be. I didn’t explicitly say what country this is taking place in because I want everyone who reads this to feel included. So for example, if you’re from the U.S., you can pretend it takes place in Mexico since Diego Luna is from there. Or if you’re from Mexico, you can pretend it takes place in the U.S. or another country. I want all readers to feel included instead of being excluded. Big shout out to @tintinwrites for helping me think of a name for the series. I hope you all enjoy!

***

You’ve never gotten used to the weather since you moved to this new place a few years ago, and frankly you were happy about it. It was a different feel altogether, one that shouldn’t be taken for granted. In the past, mornings like these would’ve repulsed you but now you couldn’t wait. You’re life was seemingly perfect, and you wanted to keep it that way. Who could blame you? You’ve worked hard to get the job you have now and moved to an unfamiliar place and learn a whole new language. Others would’ve called you crazy or a dreamer, but really you were an achiever; something you always prided yourself on.

You couldn’t wait to get into work, even if you were at your current job for going on three years now. But it was never dull working as a physical therapist for The Rebels, one of the popular soccer teams in the country. Their fan base was huge, so naturally it’s difficult to find a position working for them. But yet again, you didn’t take things lightly, and worked hard to get where you’re at. Mon Motha, one of the owners of the Rebels, knew about you only because you treated so many of the players and they regarded you with high esteem. Apparently, you heard through the grapevine that she jokes around saying you play a part in the backbone that keeps the team together. You try not to think about it from time to time, but it does place a smile on your face.

Upon entering the building where you set up shop, you passed by Coach Draven, another key member of the team that knew you well. He gave you his usual quick “good morning” and a nod of his head. Practice started early as always, and he never took things lightly. He constantly drilled the players so they were always prepared for everything, since there were teams that prefer to play dirty. Because of this, many players from the Rebels face injury and then have to go through physical therapy. That’s where you come in. But more often than not, it was usually one player...

As you entered the office, Cassian Andor was already sitting in a chair in the waiting area. Cassian was the team captain, and took his position seriously; enforcing his teammates to take the coach’s orders and carrying the burden of a loss on his shoulders. He played with passion and left everything on the field when the game was done. Due to this, Cassian always found himself with some sort of a minor injury. It was mostly his knees. After years of playing, it was the only thing that ever caused him real pain. He would come almost everyday, before and after practice, to do special exercises in order to prevent pain while playing. You never minded, in fact you enjoyed his company in a way. He’s much different when he was alone compared to when he’s around his team. You smiled at Cassian; punctual as always.

“Good morning, Captain Andor,” you greeted, the native language of this country flowing off your tongue after years of practice.

“Good morning,” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips.

Cassian knew the drill by now. Once you set your things by your desk, he heads to the room in the back and lies down on the cushioned yet paper clad table. He brought his feet to rest on the surface so his knees were in the air. You entered the room, asking questions about how’s he doing and how his knees feel as you thoroughly wash your hands before touching him.

Cassian’s skin was always warm, probably due to the weather outside. It was soccer season, so of course it would be warm. But a part of you wondered if he skin was just like that. You performed the same exercises as always, stretching his legs and counting while doing so. After three years of doing this every morning, it never grew old either.

“So,” Cassian said after finishing another stretch. “Any plans tonight?”

He always asked that question, and you always gave the same response. After years of living here, you never ventured out to see what the country truly had to offer. Every once and awhile, your roommate, Jyn, would drag you out to a bar or club, but that’s the farthest you’ve gone.

“The usual,” you replied. “Just me, my couch, and a book I’ve been meaning to read.” 

You heard Cassian let out a huff of laughter. 

“You really need to get out more,” he sighed as you put some pressure on the side of his knee.

“I know,” you sighed in return. 

It was a thought that always plagued your mind. Despite everything you achieved, you could no longer lie to yourself. At times you have felt a little lonely with the lack of a dating life and your roommate being out on most nights. To be completely honest with yourself, you thought of asking Cassian to accompany you to a new place. However, you didn’t want to mix work with your personal life, and threaten any friendship you may have with the captain of the team. 

“All done,” you announced. Cassian got up from his position, sitting on the edge of the table. You watched fondly as he moved his arms about, and swinging his legs like a child. Cassian hopped down, and gave you a boyish grin, one you only saw within these four walls. “Good luck at practice today.” 

“Thank you,” he said. 

You watched as Cassian left the office, your heart falling a bit as he disappeared. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh. That’s a line you certainly didn’t want to cross. 

*** 

Cassian always scolded himself when he showed up too early to your morning sessions. He hated how excited he was to see you, and he hated how you could break down all his inner walls, something he so carefully put together throughout the years, with a simple smile. But ultimately, he hated these foreign feelings that have been three years in the making. 

Cassian has never felt this way about a person, ever. Heat blooms throughout his body causing his palms to go sweaty. His mouth becomes the Saharra desert as his mind transforms into a whirlwind of thoughts. He’s never felt so off guard before. On the soccer field, he was cold and calculating, focused on one thing...winning. With you, however, it was the opposite. He was a bumbling mess of a human; something he tries to hide whenever you’re around. 

There has always been a part of him that wanted to ask you out. He couldn’t deny it, but he saw something more with you, but was never able to take those first steps. Every time he asks you for your plans that night, he chickens out last minute replying with plans of his own. It’s like he see the goal open, but could never kick the ball in. 

Cassian shook away any thoughts of you. He couldn’t let them interfere with his performance. Cassian stepped on the field, and went to work. 

He listened carefully to Coach Draven’s orders, taking mental notes to carry out the actions with perfection. He ran as fast as he could, and handled the ball with control. Maybe one day, after a win, the adrenaline would give him the fuel to ask you out. No, he scolded himself. Not now. Don’t think about her now. 

The sound of Draven’s whistle pulled Cassian out of his thoughts. He looked up to see it was the signal for a water break, something he desperately needed at that moment. He didn’t notice it until he looked at the sun, but they’ve been practicing for hours now. He was slightly amazed on how transfixed he was that he lost track of time. Cassian sat on the bench, chugging down as much water as he could, before an anxious intern from the offices bumped his back. Cassian coughed from the unexpected action, and gave an icy glare at the baby-faced intern, who looked like a deer caught in head lights. 

“S-sorry,” the intern stuttered out. Cassian watched as the boy played with the ends of his long sleeve shirt, looking around nervously, before returning his gaze back to him. “Do you know where Y/N L/N is?” 

Cassian was taken aback upon the mention of your name. He lifted his hand, pointing to the building where your office was, closer to the practice field than any other building on the campus. 

“Second floor, third door when you get off the elevator.” 

The intern nodded his head, and began a brisk walk to your building. Curiosity bloomed in Cassian, but he quickly shook it off. He couldn’t think about you, not now. 

***

Anxiety washed over you as you sat outside of the conference room. Thirty minutes ago, an intern burst into your office with an urgent message for you to come and meet with the team’s board of members, including the owners. Your stomach felt like it was put through the ringer, and your head pounded with the force of a thousand drums. You didn’t think you did anything wrong throughout your three year employment, but still every wrong thing you’ve done since childhood flooded your mind. 

You turned your whole body towards the door when the click of the lock being opened reached your ears. Mon Motha stuck her head out and motioned for you to enter. 

The floor felt uneven and difficult to navigate as you entered the room, a dozen pair of eyes peered into you as you sat at the only empty seat, the one across from Mon Motha. 

“Miss L/N,” her calm voice filling the silence in the air. Tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. “Do you know why you are here?” 

No words could come to your mouth. All you could do was shake your head. 

“Miss L/N,” Bail Organa said, taking the lead. “There have been rumors going around, and if they’re true, it could cause possible damage to the Rebels.” You remained silent, staring at the co-owners intently with a wide gaze. Rumors? About you? “It has been heard and said that your visa has expired for some time now and you’ve been residing in this country illegally. Is this true?” 

Your wish for the earth to open up and swallow you whole has never been stronger than this moment. Your heart pounded against your rib cage, the air leaving your lungs, and the sound of blood roaring in your ears. You looked down at the wood pattern of the table, not bearing to match their gazes. 

“Yes,” you murmured. “They’re true.” 

“Explain,” Mon Motha commanded coldly. 

You took a deep breath, trying to tame your wild nerves. 

“Well,” you began. “I never meant for my visa to get expired. It’s just that I’ve been so enthralled with my job and the Rebels, that it slipped my mind. Plus I only got one notice, a couple of days before the expiration date. Besides, it’s only been a few months-”

“A few months is long enough,” Bail sighed, rubbing his forehead. “If our rival, the Empire, gets a hold of this information they could destroy our credibility. Sponsors will pull out, attendance will dwindle, and the Rebels would cease to exist.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said. Tears threatened to spill from the anxiety that built up within you. You can’t cry now, not in front of all these people. “I’ve never meant for this to happen, and I didn’t think that it could hurt the team. I love this team!”

“We know, Y/N,” Mon Motha said. “But we need to take action before the media finds out.”

“Miss L/N,” a man said, gaining your attention. He looked clean and sleek, didn’t seem like the type to mess around or go out to have a drink with. “My name is Charles Anderson, the team’s attorney. I’ve analyzed your situation carefully and have came up with a few possible solutions.” You nodded your head, hanging on his every word. “Now, you could return to your country of origin and reside there until you have been cleared for a new visa.” 

“Which is ridiculous,” Bail interceded. “We’ll need you for when the season starts and we won’t know when your new visa will be approved even if we pulled some strings-” 

“Or,” Anderson said, rather loudly, cutting off Bail. “We can have you applied for a marriage license here so your spouse’s citizenship could protect you until either the season is over or you apply for citizenship yourself. Of course with this, you’ll have to apply within the next month or so.” 

“But,” you interjected, trying to gather your thoughts and bearings. “I don’t have a boyfriend or anything. How can you expect me to meet someone and marry them within a month?” 

“Actually,” Bail said, arching his eyebrow towards you with his hands clasped right in front of his face. “We were thinking that you’ll marry someone on the team.” 

Your stomach twisted at that thought. For so long you didn’t want to cross the line between work and a personal relationship, but now it seemed you didn’t have a choice. 

“What?” you asked, disbelief and shock gripping your mind and heart. 

“Think about it,” Mon said. “We’ll get ahead of any allegations that the Empire might make. We’ll say you and a player on the team were having a private relationship and make it seem that you two have been together longer than a month. Plus, with the player’s popularity, nobody will even begin to question your status in the country, and even root for the marriage. You’ll be protected in the eyes of the public. Anderson will draw up a contract for the two of you to sign so that after a year or so, you guys can divorce without raising any eyebrows and you’ll be able to stay in the country.” 

You heard every word, but after awhile, it sounded like you were underwater. Muffled noise mixed together into nonsense. You were still in shock. Married for a year to someone you didn’t know well? Plus you’ll have to make the marriage look believable. And then divorce? You never saw yourself getting married so soon, much less divorce. But this was your only viable option. What else could you do? 

*** 

Cassian wiped off the remaining droplets of water off his chest as he stepped out of the shower room. A cold shower was something he needed after today’s rigorous training and how his thoughts of you slightly got away from him during it. 

Cassian approached his designated locker and began to dress. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t sweaty and smelly before going to meet you for the after practice therapy session. Cassian watched as Bodhi took a seat at the bench in front of his locker. Cassian liked to think of Bodhi as his second in command when guiding the team on the field. Bodhi always followed orders even if he doubted himself at times. He’s a good teammate, as well as being one of Cassian’s best friends. 

“So,” Bodhi began, running his towel through his wet hair. “Did you hear about Y/N?” 

Cassian stopped his movements for a split second at the mention of your name. He kept his eyes trained on the locker wall, not wanting to look at Bodhi in effort to hide any indication of his feelings toward you. But Cassian had to admit, he was intrigued. Especially since there’s been an intern that was looking for you earlier that day. 

“No,” Cassian said, leaving it at that for now. 

“Well, I talked to that young intern... you know the one that disturbed our practice earlier? Anyways, apparently the team’s board had a sit down with Y/N.”

Cassian looked back at Bodhi upon hearing that. He tried to keep his voice steady, even if panic threatened to break through. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Apparently,” Bodhi said in a low voice just above a whisper, leaning on his forearms that rested on his knees so no one else could hear. “Y/N’s visa is expired, and the board is saying she has to marry someone quick so she can stay for the season.” 

Cassian’s heart fell through his chest and landed on the floor, nearly breaking. Your visa expired? You were always so responsible, he couldn’t believe that a perfect person like you could be in a situation like this. He needed to see you. 

Cassian rushed to put on the rest of his clothes, shoving his feet in his shoes before leaving the locker room, not saying another word to Bodhi. The only thing that he had on his mind was you. 

*** 

Your head still ached, even after leaving that dreaded conference room. You wanted to go home, talk about this situation with Jyn, and wallow in your sadness until you fall asleep. But deep down, you didn’t want to go home, not yet at least. You still had your therapy session with Cassian. To be completely honest, you wanted to see him; as if he could solve everything with one simple smile. That’s what you needed, his smile. 

As if he read your thoughts, Cassian walked into your office, a look of urgency traced in his eyes but quickly replaced with relief upon setting his gaze on you. You got up from your desk and approached the door to the exam room. 

“Hey Cass,” you sighed, trying to hide anything that might give away your awful situation. 

“Hi,” he replied nervously, which you decided not to look into. 

You washed your hands as Cassian laid down on the exam table. You had him perform the usual exercises for his knees, the silence in the room deafening. It was a little more difficult to get him to cooperate today for some reason. You felt the tension build up in his knees, something that only ever happened to him when there was something bothering him. After three years of physical therapy, you could tell if there is something off. His words might say otherwise, but his body told the truth. You let out a sigh. 

“What’s wrong, Cassian?” you asked, making eye contact with him. 

“Nothing,” he replied, shaking his head before resting it on the table surface. 

“Come on, Cass,” you urged, squeezing his knee gently. “I know there’s something on your mind.”

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath. 

He did his final stretch before moving to get off the table. You turned around and approached the sink, washing your hands and preparing yourself to listen to what he has to say. Maybe he’s stressing about “the secret weapon” that the Empire supposedly has. Taking a paper towel, you turn back around to face him, wiping your hands dry before looking up to him. 

Or down... 

“Y/N L/N,” Cassian started, kneeling down on one knee. “Will you marry me?”

To be continued...  

[wearesuchstuff1]

There is a Time, There is a Place

Read on AO3

As always I have to thank the amazing @rxbxlcaptain who edited this for me.

This fic was inspired by this post.

The two men stand across the room from each other, the tactical table between them.  There are others in the room, but at the moment the furious energy sparking across the table makes the various commanders, generals, and extraneous personnel stationed around the perimeter all but invisible.  Many of them certainly wish they were.  

 While the men argue and accuse, two smaller figures watch each other from across the table.  Both dark haired and fair skinned they listen to their adoptive fathers with sharp, curious eyes.  They watch each other with that same curiosity.

 They have little enough in common.  They come - literally and figuratively - from different worlds, their clothing and hairstyles proof enough of that.  One is dressed in soft pants, combat boots, and a dark jacket, with two messy braids holding both hair and memories.  The other wears a soft, white gown, her hair pulled up into two pristine buns just above her temples.  Their temperaments are different too, manifested in the way the girls hold themselves.  The elder leans forward on the balls of her feet, ready for action, a knife strapped to her side.  The younger surveys the room with a poise rarely seen in those even twice her age.  And yet the two young women are far more similar than either could comprehend in that moment.  

 After all, they are both here.

 Saw Gerrera, ever passionate, flings words like grenades.  Jyn Erso is used to this passion.  She sees it in everything her adoptive father does, from the way he fights to the way he trains her to the way he tucks her in at night - stories of the horrors of the Empire replacing the tales her mother had once told her.

 Gerrera’s passion is equally matched by Senator Organa.  He has seen too many he cared for die at the hands of the Empire to allow the Alliance to, as he puts, <em>sink so low</em>.  If the fervor displayed by the Senator surprises Leia Organa it does not show on the nine-year-old’s face.  This is not her first diplomatic meeting, nor will it be her last.

 One last figure stands at the edge of the tactical table, watching, ever-quiet.  She speaks now, her calm voice ringing with enough authority to silence even these two impassioned men.  

 “Tempers have run hot,” Mon Mothma says.  “I believe it would be wise to take a break before we say what cannot be unsaid.”

 The matter is not finished.  Everyone knows that.  But heads are inclined and a breath is released and the room begins to clear.  

 “Jyn.” Saw’s hand is heavy on her shoulder and his voice is quiet.  “My child, go, speak to the young princess.  See what you can learn of her father’s plans.”

 “You want me to spy on our friends?” the girl asks.

 “Those unwilling to do what it takes to defeat the Empire are no friends of ours.  Remember that, Jyn.”     

 It warms what is left of Saw’s heart to see the way, even at eleven, Jyn sets her shoulders and lifts her chin.  She is strong, and he knows she will need that strength.  

 Her father is speaking with Mon Mothma and Leia surveys the room quietly.  She catalogs who speaks with whom, who laughs aloud and who keeps their voice low, and who has left the room completely.  She watches the other girl speak with Gerrera, then approach her.  The older girl is taller, but her clothes are ripped and muddied.  Leia offers her a gentle smile.  Her aunts would be proud.  

 “Hello,” she offers.

 “Your father’s wrong, you know,” Jyn responds.  Leia doubts this girl has aunts to teach her proper diplomatic decorum.  

 “How so?”

 “The Empire will kill every one of us if they’re given the chance,” the girl defends.  She is told these words before every battle. “They’d destroy entire planets to kill us if they could.”  

 Leia nods. She does not doubt it.  “Then let us then be thankful such technology does not exist.”

 Jyn bristles.  She has seen the Empire destroy people.  They don’t need that sort of technology.  All they needed to kill her mother was a blaster.  Given the chance, all Jyn would need to kill the man in white who took her mother and father from her would be her bare hands.  

 “But don’t you see?  They would kill us if they could.  We must kill them before they are given the chance.  Doesn’t your father understand?”

 Leia raises her chin but her eyes spark with a defiance and fight that even her aunts have not been able to douse.  Her father saw the same spark when she had demanded to join him on the mission to the Rebel Base.  

 “Of course we do.  But my father and I also believe that the torturing of prisoners for information and the murder of innocent civilians makes us no better than those we fight against.”

 “You’re wrong,” Jyn bites, pushing away the thought that in some other time, in some other life, she and Leia might have been friends.  “It doesn’t make us better.  It makes us dead.”

 She turns on her heel and marches out of the room in search of Saw, having no way of knowing that as her angry back retreats the young princess is watching her, having the same thought that Jyn herself just had.  Leia imagines that perhaps the day when she and Jyn can be friends remains ahead of them.  Leia, as always, has hope.    

Jyn storms out of the War Room, a force of nature as always.  Saw is nowhere to be seen so she picks a direction, turning away from the few huddled groups of ranking officers and heading instead down a quiet corridor that hugs the War Room’s outer wall.  The first door she comes to is locked with a keypad, as is the second.  The third has no keypad in sight and opens with a tug.  The door reveals nothing but a supply closet.  Only shelves and crates.  Well, Jyn notes with surprise as the door clicks shut behind her.  Only shelves and crates and a boy.

 He’s a young man, really.  He sits on a box with one leg drawn up next to him, but even sitting Jyn can see that he would tower above her.  His hair hangs into his eyes and the shadowy beginnings of a beard show on his cheeks.  He regards her with a mixture of shock and confusion.  

 “Who are you?”  Jyn demands.  The boy raises an eyebrow at her.

 “I’m Lieutenant Cassian Andor, who are you?”

 “Are you spying on us, Cassian?”  Jyn has always preferred to skip right to the point of a conversation.  It always used to make her papa laugh.  

 “What?  No.” The boy - Cassian - is a good liar, Jyn notes.  He has been trained.  His eyes stay focused on hers, his fingers don’t fidget.  But Jyn has been trained, too, and she hears the way his words trip a bit too quickly from his tongue.  

 “Why else would you be sitting in a supply closet next to the War Room?”

 “Look, little girl, I don’t -”

 “I’m not a little girl,” Jyn interrupts, voice indigent.  It’s the not first time she’s been judged for her size and age.  But usually, after a good beating or two in the training field, most of the Partisans stop making that mistake.  She had been her papa’s ‘little girl’.  She would be no one else's.  “I could kill you with just my hands, you know.”

 Cassian - who has not yet had the misfortune of feeling Jyn’s stinging blows - simply laughs.  

 “I’d like to see you try.  I’ve been fighting people much bigger than you since I was six.”  While Jyn may like the way Cassian’s accent colors his words she has to scoff.  She’s already killed ‘troopers more than double his age.

 “You’re here with Saw Gerrera, aren’t you?  For the meeting?” Cassian asks, changing the subject.    

 “The one you’re spying on, yes.”

 Cassian’s eyes flash.  Someday this little girl is going to get him into trouble.  He’s sure of it.  “I’m not spying.  Draven said I couldn’t be in the room.  He didn’t say I couldn’t listen.  Besides, there are parts in here I need for a droid I’ve reprogrammed.  He’s functional but he still has a few glitches.”

 “Droids annoy me.  Who’s Draven?”  Jyn asked, wandering over to a nearby crate and perching on it, looking curiously at Cassian.  She can only assume this Draven was one of the many pairs of eyes watching Saw and Senator Organa’s argument.  Perhaps he was Cassian’s mentor. Jyn didn’t get the feeling she would like him much.

 A distinct note of pride entered Cassian’s voice.  “Commander Draven.  He’s an intelligence officer.  He recruited me.”  

 “When?”

 “When I was younger than you.”  This statement is accompanied by a raised eyebrow.  It isn’t that Cassian is happy to have been a soldier at such a young age - although it does give him authority over the other kids on the base.  He had much rather have spent the time growing up with his parents and his sister.  But they were lost to him a long time ago and the Rebellion has given him a home and a cause to fight for and he is proud to do his part.  And if he cannot close his eyes some nights for fear that he will be haunted by those whose lives have been sacrificed - either by his hands or another’s - for the sake of this war, well then that is a price he must pay.  Besides, he reminds himself, he’s sure it will get easier as he grows up.  Someday he’ll be strong, just like Draven, and the deaths - his family’s, his friend’s, and even his enemy’s - won’t bother him then.   

 “You don’t know how old I am.”  The girl’s chin is raised, her shoulders set.  Cassian is sure this is a well-practiced look for her.  Despite her strength he can still see the hurt in her young eyes.  That too, he knows, will fade with time.  

 “11, 12?”

 Jyn’s scowl deepens.  She hadn’t thought he would guess.  She feels as though she should be fifty for all she has seen and done in her young life.  “I’m 11.  But I could still kill you with just my hands.  How old are you?”

 “16.”

 “If I’d been fighting since I was six I would have killed them all by now,” Jyn scoffs.  “The empire, the man in white.  Everyone who-” she stops herself, her young eyes going wide at the words that had almost tumbled their way out of her mouth.

 “Who what?”

 The light is dim in the supply room, but when Jyn meets Cassian’s eyes she can see sympathy there.  She pushes away thoughts of blaster fire and her mother’s limp body held in her father’s arms.  She pushes away memories of the dark, underground room and her lamp, threatening with every flicker to plunge her into eternal darkness.  Most of all she pushes away the burning, all consuming hatred for the man in white who had taken her life from her.  Saw fanned that hatred, nurtured it, loved it, but it scared Jyn in a way she did not want to admit, even to herself.  But Saw’s words rang in her mind, ever present, a lifeline to which she clung when the darkness and pain threatened to swallow her whole.  <em>We must destroy them, Jyn.  It is the only way to find peace - for the galaxy and for yourself.</em>    

 “Everyone who took my parents away.”

 It almost shocked Cassian, how much this little girl’s words hurt him.  But why should it surprise him?  War created orphans all the time.  Hell, he created orphans with just a shot from his blaster.  No, it should not surprise him that this child had lost her parents to the Empire.  

 Nor should it surprise him that she wanted revenge.  After all, when Dravin had approached him with an offer to join the Rebellion he had jumped at the chance to continue the fight the Empire had already started when they killed his family.  Revenge had driven him for years, had honed his loyalty to Alliance, and had formed bonds he knew he could never walk away from.  But despite the commitment he dedicated to every aspect of his training, the thrill that had coursed through him when issued his own blaster, and the pride he had felt when assigned his first solo mission, he had slowly begun to realize that it didn't matter.  The eyes of the first person he killed still haunted his nightmares and not their death, nor any victory the Rebellion had scored since did anything to bring his family back to him.  He is loyal to the Alliance, more loyal than most, he suspects, but it doesn’t take away the pain, and it tares at Cassian’s heart to hear this young girl, somehow both hardened and naive - as he is now sure he once was - speak of her dead parents and the hope that her suffering could be erased by vengeance.  In all things but this Cassian knows the importance of hope - he has seen men live and die for nothing more - but this hope, he knows, will be lost to the girl, and it will destroy her.  Maybe it will destroy them both.    

 “That’s not how it works, little girl.  You can’t ever get back at them.  Not ever.  And by the time you finish trying they’ve taken something new from you.  And you can’t stop.  And it doesn’t ever end.”

 He watches her, wishing his words could get through to her but knowing she will not - cannot - give in.  She will hold on to hope for as long as she can, and his words will do nothing to stop her.  And when that hope is finally lost it will break her.  

 Instead of responding the girl’s eyes flick down to his arm where Cassian had managed to push the dull ache and wetness all but out of his mind.  

 “You’re bleeding.” Jyn narrows her eyes and watches the boy glance down at his arm where a bloody bandage peeked through a blaster-shot shaped hole in his jacket.  

 Cassian purses his lips.  He had gone to medbay as instructed and the droid had cleaned and wrapped his wound.  It isn’t that deep, so Cassian is surprised to see that he has bled through.  Maybe he shouldn’t have turned down the bacta the droid had offered.   

 “I just got back from a mission.”  Neither child seems too worried about the blood, and nothing could say more about their childhoods than that.

 “A successful one?”

 Cassian glances at the girl.  “I killed the target, if that’s what you consider a success.”

 Jyn’s confusion shows on her face.  “Of course it is.  One less of them, right?”

 “Four less of them, actually.”  A husband, a wife, and their two children.  They youngest had been his age.  They never saw him, lying on the neighboring roof, sniper rifle in hand.  He had contemplated for a full two minutes which to kill first.  In the end he started with the youngest.  He remembered what it was like to watch your parents die.    

 “All the better,” Jyn answered.

 Cassian watches her for a moment.  “Saw.  He trains his Partisans from a young age, right?”

 Jyn nods.  “He’s been training me since I was eight.  I’m the youngest.  And I’m going to be the best.”

 “And it doesn’t bother you?  What you have to do?  The people Saw has you kill?  The prisoners Saw tortures?”

 “Not if it gets me closer to finding my father.” Jyn’s look is fierce, but there is a shadow of uncertainty in her eyes, as if a part of her soul is crying out to be saved.  When she speaks again the words are not hers.  “We have to do everything we can to fight against the Empire.  They have to be destroyed.”

 Cassian gives her a tiny smile.  “On that point we agree, little girl.”

 He was not the only orphan of war raised by the Alliance, of course, and a few adult soldiers have raised their own children in the corridors of the Dantooine base, but this girl is different, he decides.  He could imagine, somehow, being willing to fight by her side for a cause they both believed in - after she grew a few more inches, of course.      

 With a sudden bang the door to the supply closet busts open.  The light from the hallway is obstructed by large figure and Saw leans heavily on his staff, his breathing labored and his face furious. Both children jump to their feet but Saw hardly spares a glance for Cassian before he turns to Jyn.

 “Child. Come. We are leaving this place. Forever.”

 “What happened?” Jyn asks.

 “They will not fight for the Rebellion.  They will not do what it takes.”  Rage emanates off Saw’s imposing figure and somehow both Jyn and Cassian know that the fate of the Rebellion will never be the same.  “You will never see these people again.”  With that Gerrera turns and storms out of the room.  Quickly Jyn moves to follow, but at the door she turns back.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you were defying orders,” she tells Cassian, her small hand on the doorframe.

 Cassian stands tall - she was right, he does tower above her - and clasps his hands behind his back.  Despite standing at attention, though, his deep brown eyes find Jyn’s.  “I don’t defy orders, little girl.  You defy orders and people get killed.  You should learn that.”

 Jyn holds Cassian’s gaze for a moment, then drops her head.  When she looks back up at him she is sad beyond her years.  He sees that she is in pain, sees that she is lost, and sees that she needs a home.  But it is not in his power to give her one.

 “People get killed even if you don’t defy orders, Cassian.  You should learn that.”   

 And with that Jyn Erso turns and walks out of Cassian Andor’s life.  Thoughts of Saw Gerrera’s green eyed girl rarely cross Cassian’s mind.  Like Gerrera said, they were never going to see each other again.  Cassian believes that, right up until the day he is called to the War Room by General Dravin and finds himself staring at a woman - a criminal with a traitor for a father - whose beautiful green eyes seem impossibly familiar and who glances at him with well concealed questions.  

 They try to place each other, try to figure each other out, but it isn’t until Jedha, when Cassian finds Jyn kneeling next to Gerrera, with tears in her beautiful eyes, that he remembers the little girl in the supply closet.  He pulls her out of the collapsing temple - away from the man who, despite everything he did to her, had been her father for so many years - and can do nothing but acknowledge the commands that come through from Draven, ordering him to kill the only other father Jyn has ever known.  He had been right; war created orphans all the time, and when he looks through the scope of his blaster, finding the man with Jyn’s green eyes, he thinks for a moment that he is no better than War itself.

 He is glad when he is able to prove them both wrong.

 He yells at her when they get on the ship.  Water dripping into his eyes, he pushes away the thought that this is the second time he has pulled her away from her dead father.  His pain and uncertainty manifest in shouted words thrown without a thought.  He defied orders.  He defied them for her.    

 She tells him he is no better than a Stormtrooper and he thinks that perhaps today is the first day in a long time that he actually is.

 Jyn’s eyes flash with fire when she storms out of the War Room.  Of course they hadn’t believed her.  The risk is too great.  But Cassian doesn’t care.  Nor do Kay and the people he has gathered, his old friends.  Nor do Chirrut, Bodhi, and Baze, his new friends.  And when he welcomes her home all he can see are the eyes of a little girl who had been searching for a place to belong her whole life, who is thankful to have finally found one.    

 He never tells her how he knows her.  He doesn’t have time.  The flight to Scarif is a blur of preparations and plans, and then they are kneeling together on a beach, holding each other as a blaze of white light races to swallow them whole.  

 A promise ligers between them.  <em>I could have been happy with you.  I could have loved you.  Maybe I did.</em>               

 They die together with a peace neither thought could ever be found.  Not in a war.  Not after everything.  Not for them.

   When Leia Organa reads the report of the Battle of Scarif she grieves for a friend she had known most of her life, a boy who had joined the Rebellion to find justice but who had given up the search long ago.  And she grieves for a little girl she barely knew but who, she is now sure, she would have been friends with.

She prays to the Force that they are at peace among the stars.

Thank you for reading! 

AO3

Unfortunately I do not own Star Wars!

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Falling Slowly | Cassian Andor x Reader (Oneshot)

Words:  5992

A/N: I don’t even know. I just love writing Cassian and reader being awkward messes. It was supposed to be a nice oneshot about a bubbly new recruit that’s assigned to work with Rogue One and Cassian has his reservations on them, but they prove to be really competent and they start to fall for each other. But then it grew into something else all because my brain wants to make things complicated, so it became something about letting go the past that’s keeping you from enjoying the present? So... enjoy?

Warning: Not much, just slow-burn, reader doesn’t know how feelings work

-

“Captain, the general has requested that we bring one of the new recruits along,” K-2SO reminded Cassian.

Bodhi’s ears perked up at that, stepping away from one of the mechanics to listen in. “New recruit?” he asked curiously.

Cassian sighed. “There has been more people siding with the Rebellion, sending in people that have no experience in warfare to help,” he said, dropping his backpack onto a bench in the U-Wing.

“You don’t look so happy about that,” Bodhi noted, earning a snort from Jyn as she walked up to the group, a bag slung over her shoulder.

“He never looks happy,” Jyn muttered to Bodhi. The pilot hid his smile with a cough, turning his attention back to the mechanics to make sure the ship was ready to go. “And when is this new recruit arriving?”

“You’re late, Jyn,” Cassian said with a frown, though when is he not frowning. “The new recruit is late. Even Chirrut and Baze were here early, and they always take their time.”

“I’m blind, not deaf,” Chirrut quipped, then added pleasantly, “Good morning, Jyn.”

“Morning, little sister,” Baze chimed in.

“Morning, you two. How long has Cassian and Kaytwo been complaining?”” Jyn asked them as she climbed into the U-Wing.

Chirrut answered with a sigh and a shake of his head. Baze made no comment, settling for cleaning his gun. Jyn set her bag down and plopped next to Chirrut, sighing impatiently. Cassian gave her a tired glare before taking a walk to think. Mon Mothma and Draven had given him another briefing for the mission with the addition of the new recruit to the plan. He had been fine operating on his own until he got K-2SO and was just getting used to having a full team of five to lead and now they’re adding someone who has no experience in the field.

“They’re inconspicuous and they know how those types of environments operate,” Mon Mothma reasoned with him.

He nodded stiffly, knowing that he couldn’t talk his way out of this. The recruit was a liability. Any signs of danger and who knows what they will do? Blow their cover or turn on them or run. Then again, he was cautious with having to work with Jyn during their first mission and she turned out to be an admirable ally and friend. Mothma and Draven wouldn’t send the recruit to him if they didn’t think that they were competent enough to get the job done.

As he walked back to the U-Wing, he could hear the team laughing along with a voice he was unfamiliar with. He stepped into the ship and saw the new member of the team sitting on one of the benches in the middle of telling a story while the others surrounded her, listening intently.

“You’re an hour late,” Cassian said, breaking the mood. Jyn rolled her eyes before sitting down across from you.

You shot up from the bench. “I’m sorry, Captain. Some of the mechanics were having trouble moving the new shipment and I stopped to help-”

“It’s fine,” Chirrut assured you.

“You’re just lucky that we’re not pressed on time for this mission,” K-2SO clipped, “but we do need to start to head out as soon as possible.”

“I’m so sorry,” you began to apologize again.

“Enough,” Cassian said, walking past you to the cockpit, “We leave now.”

You slowly sat back down, hands folded on your lap as you waited for the U-Wing to take off. Chirrut gave a comforting pat on the hand while Jyn gave you a smile. She scooted to the edge of her bench, looking at the cockpit where Cassian and K-2SO were arguing about something, then back at you.

“So, what happened afterwards?” she whispered, wanting you to continue the story.

Chirrut and Baze leaned in while Bodhi, seemingly busy taking inventory, was still listening in. You cast a cautious glance over to the captain before clearing your throat.

“So, anyways, where was I?” you whispered.

“The tourists were entering the forest at night when they heard something,” Baze prompted.

“Oh, right, so they ignored all the warnings given to them by the locals, thinking it was some silly superstition. They drank and littered, kicking the stacked rocks that were everywhere and just was being incredibly foolish. Then, they saw a light between the trees, followed by a whistle in the chilly wind-”

You went on to telling the stories you’ve heard over the years throughout your travels. It helped ease your nervousness for your first mission with the Rebellion and you got the feeling that the team knew that. When you ran through the hangar, looking for the U-Wing, Bodhi was the first to greet you. He flashed a kind smile and introduced you to the rest of the team. You’ve heard stories about Rogue One, so the fact that you were assigned to this team had put a lot of pressure on you. You weren’t a skilled mechanic or a talented pilot and you preferred not to have any physical confrontations. What you were good at was staying invisible, observing, and having a photographic memory. Apparently, this type of mission required people with your skillset and they promised that it shouldn’t be too dangerous.

“Okay, we’re here,” Cassian announced, landing the U-Wing. He walked towards the group and zeroed in on you. “I assume they had briefed you on your task?”

You nodded. “Gather intel on the target, then we find the target and escort them back to base.”

“No, you are gathering intel and reporting back to me. We,” Cassian gestures to the rest of the team, “will find the target and escort them. Once your task is done, you come straight back here and wait.”

You blinked. “Uh, okay. I gather intelligence on the target, report back to you, then wait here in the U-Wing,” you repeated almost mechanically.

Cassian seemed satisfied with this and went to grab his bag. You exhaled slowly, your leg bouncing as you tried to calm yourself, though it seemed counterintuitive to do that. You felt someone poke your forehead and looked up to see a smiling Jyn.

“You’ll do fine. Cassian’s always grumpy, but don’t take it too personally. He’s insufferable, but he’s capable. We’ll be listening in if you guys run into any trouble,” Jyn said.

“Okay… okay, thank you, Jyn,” you said, grabbing your small bag and following Cassian out of the ship.

“Stay close until we reach the inner city, then we split. I will be following nearby,” Cassian said as he held out a wired device to you.

You grabbed it, turning it around in your hands, not sure what to do with it. “Um…”

He sighed, showing you how to set up the communication device and hide it on your person before testing it. He adjusted his earpiece and you copied him. You jumped at the static from your end, the corner of his lips turning up in amusement before it disappeared. How embarrassing. You were an hour late for your first mission, always stumbling over your words, and now you’ve just shown how easily scared you were. He made sure the device was perfectly hidden before pulling away. It was strange how cold it felt when he did.

“Can you hear us?” Cassian said into the device.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Jyn said, “Are you there, (Y/n)?”

“Oh, uh, yes, I-”

“That’ll do,” K-2SO interrupted, “I hope you’re not going to be like this throughout the mission. Cassian would be better off taking Jyn or Bodhi and we know how well that went the last time.”

“I didn’t think it went that bad,” you heard Bodhi mutter in the background.

“You did great, Bodhi, don’t listen to Kaytwo. He’s just upset that he’s stuck waiting with us instead of going with Cassian,” Jyn said.

You purse your lips, not knowing how to respond to this, but ultimately deciding not to say anything at all. Cassian shrugged on his backpack and zipped up his jacket before nodding at you. He started towards the city, checking every now and again if you were keeping up.

The walk to the city was uncomfortable for you. The space was too open, easy for you to be spotted and picked off if you were alone. But as the two of you got closer, you could feel the energy radiating off the busy streets, the rumbling of the collective voices in one area, and the heat of all the bodies and factory structures. You felt your muscles slowly relaxed once you reached the edge of the city. Cassian looked over to you to start walking ahead first. You did so, slowly being swallowed up by the crowd. You knew that Cassian was waiting a few beats before following, blending in like you.

There wasn’t much to go on when it came to finding the target. You were told that there was a potential and valuable ally hidden within this city under a heavy watch due to his inventions and engineering abilities. The Rebellion wanted to reach him before the Empire could get a hold of any of his blueprints or prototypes. No one knew exactly who he was and preferred to work with anonymity, but rumor has it, he owed a local kingpin a lot of money and was now working under them to pay that debt. Where do you start?

As you walked through the market area, you asked simple questions that travellers normally inquire about, like the businesses in the city, places to stay, if there were any forms of entertainment, just to get an idea of what kind of system this place ran on. You walked over to one of the market stalls, buying a variety of fruits before walking over to a couple of street urchins here and there who only gave you short answers before leaving. One person with ragged clothes and a cloth covering their face remained, so you sat down next to them. You took one fruit out of the bag and munched slowly, taking in your surroundings. You weren’t sure where Cassian was, exactly, but you suppose that was the point. Just have to hope that he’d be nearby to intercept if something goes wrong.

“You're new here,” the stranger commented, eyeing the bag of fruit.

“Is it obvious?” you asked.

“I know everyone that passes by here,” they said confidently.

“Really? And what kind of people pass by here?”

“Give me a fruit and I’d tell ya.”

You eased them into a natural conversation, from the old lady that smuggle drugs in her baking to the young men and women messing with the local law enforcement. All the while, people passed both of you without a second look.

“So who runs what?” you asked.

They raised an eyebrow. “What you mean?”

You shrugged. “I’d assume there’d be a group in control of certain areas around the city. There’s bound to be what with the state of the law enforcement and the illegal dealings going on around here. It just seems civil on the surface, if you know what I mean?” You took out another fruit and handed it over to them while you continued to munch on your own.

They nodded. “So you from the slums, then?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“We’ve got four main gangs around here; Feuer, Erde, Meer, and Luft. They broke their territories up by quadrants, which is what people call them as a whole. Everything was supposed to be equal with trade going through each quadrant. But,” they held up a finger, “there’s been something that threatens this peace treaty. Lotta noise coming from the Feuer gang and the others are on edge.”

“Noise?”

They looked around before leaning in. “Zapata,” they whispered.

You frowned. “What’s that?”

They shook their head. “Not what, who. Look around, look at all the smooth machinery and the clear sky. This place was a smoggy sooty mess before Zapata found a way to make clean and practically infinite power to keep the factories going. The Quadrants have been eyeing him and they couldn’t agree about what to do with him. One says let him be, others say that he would bring trouble, then there were the other two who wanted him to themselves.”

“Why?”

They hummed, holding a hand out for another fruit, which you complied. “What can you do with an engineer like that? Practically anything, and that’s a scary power to have. What starts as something of good intention gets taken advantage of for others’ selfish reasons.”

You opened your mouth to ask more about Zapata when Cassian’s voice sounded through the earpiece. “We’ve got company approaching on both ends,” he warned.

“Where is this person?” you asked the stranger.

They narrowed their eyes. “Why do you want to know?”

You shrugged it off. You could see two men with charcoal colored light metal armor on either side of the street. “Just asking,” you said before handing them the rest of the fruits, “Well, I gotta get going.”

The stranger spotted the men and stood up. They had a hand behind their back as their green eyes flickered back to you. “Who are you?”

“Just passing through,” you said.

“(Y/n),” Cassian said, urging you to move.

“You’re looking for Zapata, too, aren’t you?” the stranger went on.

Your heart was beating against your ribcage as the men were drawing in closer. You quickly grabbed the stranger’s hand and squeezed it.

“(Y/n)!” Cassian said harshly.

You ignored him. “Look, I can help him escape here,” you whispered, “Help me, please. I know you know him.”

Their eyes studied you for a minute. “You’ve got a ship, then? Protection?” You nodded. “Then follow me.”

They pulled their other hand from behind their back and revealed a small blaster. Before the men could spot the two of you, the stranger pulled you through a narrow alleyway. You hoped that Cassian would be able to catch up as you were lead through the streets, weaving around through every alleyway or shortcut that this person seemed to know by heart. When it looked to be the outskirts of the city in the opposite quadrant, they pulled you into a small tavern.

They walked over to a booth in the corner of the room and sighed. A waiter came and set down a tankard of some strong smelling brown liquid in front of them before greeting you. You settled for a glass of water before looking around the tavern. It was relatively homely with the fireplace on one end, comfy chairs surrounding it, and a bar at the other.

“Where are we?” you asked.

“We’re in the Meer quadrant, a neutral zone,” they said, pulling down the cloth from their face, revealing a man with brown hair and a salt and pepper stubble, “but we can’t stay here for long. If the Feuer gang grows impatient and desperate, they may try to come here and look for me.”

“You? So, you’re Zapata?” you asked quietly. He nodded. “I was told that you were under heavy watch.”

He shrugged. “They don’t expect me to be able to climb out of the window of a four story building, but I’m an inventor. I have my ways,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “I love watching people. I love learning about their behaviors, their personalities. I grew to appreciate our… humanness. It was something that I took for granted when I was younger. Empathy. So I made it my goal to help people and to better understand them. I ran into a financial obstacle and asked the gangs for help, knowing that they cared about the people more than the law enforcement here. I should have known that something was off when my contacts were replaced with Feuer gang members. But it was too late, and I owed a debt to them.” He paused for a moment before clearing his throat. “Forgive me, I haven’t properly introduced myself. I’m Zapata, Julio Zapata. You can just call me Julio.”

“I’m (Y/n).”

“Pleasure to meet you, (Y/n).”

“And what do they want you to do for them?”

Julio shook his head. “Maybe we should wait for your friend to catch up, hm?” he said, taking another sip of his drink.

“How did-”

He tapped his ear. “Your earpiece. It’s hard to see for anyone who wasn’t looking, but I’m used to checking for those kinds of things.”

“No, just get the information and then leave, (Y/n),” Cassian said into your earpiece.

You purse your lips. “Is there a ‘fresher here?” you asked Julio.

He gave you an amused smile before pointing to the door on the opposite end of the tavern. You thanked him before rushing over, locking the door behind you.

“But I have the target here with me,” you told Cassian.

“I know, but if we can find out where they had been holding him, we could get a hold of his work and leave.”

“But aren’t we supposed to get him out of here. The point wasn’t to get his work, it was to get him, so they wouldn’t be using him.”

“He sounds like he already has an escape plan. He always does,” he added, then said, “we get his work, he leaves, then there’s no threat to deal with.”

“I think we’re his escape plan, Cassian. What’s going on? Besides, he won’t tell me any more information unless you come. He knows I came with someone. We might as well talk to him now, then move him to the ship together.”

“I am the captain here, (Y/l/n). Get the information, then we move on,” Cassian said firmly before ending the connection.

You ripped the earpiece out in frustration. This mission wasn’t turning out to how you thought it was going to be. But then again, Cassian was acting in a way that you thought that he wouldn’t. In the short time that you knew him and from the stories you’ve heard of him, he didn’t seem the type to cut corners. When he has orders, he does what he must to finish them. It wasn’t like the mission was completely compromised. If anything, this was easier, knowing that you had already found the target and he was willing to talk to you. You thought that Cassian would at least warm up to you more with how things have gone so far.

Julio was waiting patiently back at the booth, half of his tankard gone, but he still looked sober. You sat back down and took a couple gulps of water before sighing.

“Let me guess, your superior is being impatient?” Julio asked. You nodded. He huffed out a laugh. “He thinks I didn’t see him, but I did. When you live like the way I lived, you learn to be more observant of your surroundings. Not trust anything you see. It was easy to spot him.”

“You trusted me,” you noted.

Julio nodded. “You’re the most sincere thing I’ve seen in years. When I’m not working on machines, I’m working with people with masks that they show to the world. I suppose, I’m more aware of this when I’ve had a mask on even around the people that trusted me the most. I’ve paid the price for it, but I don’t want to be jaded by my experience. I have this hope, you know, that there are genuine people out there.”

“You mentioned that you saw him. How did you even know that it was him that I was with?”

“I knew him. Years ago, and I’m guessing… no, I know it’s the reason why he’s not going to come over here,” Julio said, playing with the droplets that formed on his tankard, “Understandably. But, I really do need your help and you guys were sent to help me. Is he still listening in?”

“I don’t know.”

Julio sighed, then muttered, “You wouldn’t put personal grudges in the way of your mission, would you, Cassian?”

The two of you were silent for a moment, until he started asking questions about you. There wasn’t much to tell, only that you’ve been travelling around your whole life. You didn’t know your family, and you guessed that made it easier to not settling, but it didn’t mean you closed yourself off to the rest of the world. You loved helping people, telling stories, and learning about others. Maybe that’s why it was easy to talk to Julio, due to your similar mindsets. He expressed that he wasn’t always like that, that he was bitter even as a child. After a fall out with a close friend of his, he decided to change himself. He didn’t want to answer any questions related to the mission, and you wondered if he was just stalling until Cassian made up his mind.

Then, the front door of the tavern opened. You saw Julio’s eyes trained on the newcomer, a ghost of a smile on his lips. You turned and saw Cassian walking over to the booth. He gave a frustrated glare to both of you.

“I’ve ordered Kaytwo to move the ship closer. Jyn will be meeting us there. You tell us where they’ve been holding you and we’ll get you on our ship, got that?” Cassian said. After Julio nodded, Cassian turned to you with a stern look. “Let’s go.”

Julio pulled up his cloth mask again and followed you and Cassian out of the tavern and through the streets until you found Jyn waiting a mile out of the city. She didn’t look too pleased with Cassian, but gave you a smile instead. After Julio told the team where he was held, Cassian told Jyn to ready herself to leave with him.

“(Y/l/n), you are to wait on the ship with him while Jyn and I get the plans,” he ordered, holding your gaze to make sure you knew that they weren’t to be questioned.

“Okay,” you said with a nod, “I wait on the ship with Julio while you and Jyn get the plans.”

Cassian grunted, not amused by this. You led Julio into the ship where the others were waiting. He sat down across from Chirrut and Baze when Jyn grabbed your arm.

“You did good,” she said before leaving with Cassian.

“So you guys just sit here while Cassian does his thing, huh?” Julio said. They all sighed, even K-2SO, which was enough to answer him.

“We’re here as backup and protection if anyone finds the ship,” Baze said.

“At least with (Y/n) here, we get to listen to stories while we wait,” Chirrut added.

Julio turned to you. “Stories? I’d like to hear one.”

-

You were finished with your third story when there was a rhythmic knock on the ship. K-2SO moved to lower the ramp, revealing a tired Cassian and an angry Jyn carrying Julio’s projects. K-2SO grabbed the heavier objects off of them and placed them on the back of the ship. Once everything was settled, Cassian looked over at you as you sat close to Julio, before making a beeline to the cockpit.

He hadn’t spoken to any of you for the rest of the journey back to base. In the meantime, the rest of the team got to know more about you and Julio, exchanging stories about your childhoods and for them, how they ended up with the Rebellion.

“So, how did you end up with the Rebellion?” Julio asked you.

You shrugged. “Well, as you guys know, I just want to help people. Figured joining the Rebellion would help me do that,” you responded vaguely.

They all seemed to accept this, though you felt that Jyn was going to question more about it later. Bodhi asked him about his inventions and he began to talk about how he got started in engineering.

Soon enough, the U-Wing was back at the Rebel base. Cassian never spoke to you after the mission was wrapped up. There were times where you tried to psych yourself up to confront him, but you either become speechless the moment your eyes landed on him, or he’d turn the opposite direction. You feared that by arguing with his decisions, it affected whether or not the Rebellion wanted to enlist in any future field missions.

The others were fine talking to you, it was only the captain that was hard to deal with. Jyn had told you to stop wasting your energy worrying about it and you honestly don’t know why it bothered you this much. You’ve travelled enough to know your fair share of people that were cold, mean, and guarded towards you. So why was Cassian any different?

Rogue One had gone on to continue with their missions and Julio was given a work space near the hangar. Then, you, having no other skillset to offer, began floating around and learning everything you could to help in some way. You came all this way to join the Rebellion. You didn’t want to become a burden.

You were in your first week of shadowing the medics when you heard a commotion enter the medbay. You jumped out of the way of the incoming stretcher, only seeing a glimpse of who was lying on it. The others that rushed in after him only confirmed who it was. K-2SO pushed past you and followed the medics into one of the rooms.

“Oh, (Y/n), you’re here,” Bodhi said, walking up to you.

“What happened?” you managed to ask as you felt a strange stirring in your gut.

“Cassian got hit while we were running back to the U-Wing. The damage looked pretty bad,” Jyn said, “How are you?”

“Well, I was doing fine until... ,” you trailed off.

“Yeah, and how’s Julio?”

You frowned, not sure why she would ask you out of all people that. “Fine, I guess. I’ve visited his workshop once or twice a week to check in,” you said.

Jyn tilted her head and frowned. “Only once or twice?”

“Yeah,” you said slowly, “Why are you… why are you asking me this? You can go check on him if you want-”

“So it’s just platonic, then?”

“Well, yeah. We’ve become good friends since we brought him here. Why are you…” You looked at Bodhi for answers.

He gave you an apologetic smile. “I’m going to go check on Cassian’s status,” he said, excusing himself.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n), I was just… trying to figure out what’s been going on in Cassian’s head,” Jyn said, “He seemed distracted lately. It’s not like him to be distracted. The only thing I could think of was you and Julio.”

“Well, I assume Cassian and Julio had some bad history with each other. He didn’t even want to bring Julio back when we found out who the target was, and he seemed angry at me because I kept arguing with him,” you tried to reason.

Jyn shook her head, knowing that there was something more to it. “When was the last time you spoke to Cassian?”

“Since the last mission and I’m pretty sure he actively avoided having me join on any missions after that.”

Jyn pursed her lips. “You did nothing wrong, (Y/n). Cassian’s being frustratingly stubborn as usual, that’s all. Maybe talk to him and find out what’s wrong. He wasn’t focused today and I don’t want to think what would have happened if we weren’t next to him to drag him away from incoming enemies.”

“I can try, but I don’t think he wants to talk to me,” you said, looking down the hall where they took Cassian.

“You’ll be surprised,” Jyn said, patting you on the shoulder, “I’ll see you around. I like talking to you.”

“See you.”

With your new tasks at the medbay, there weren't many opportunities for you to see Cassian. Or, at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. What if he didn’t want to see you because you tried to disobey him? What exactly happened between him and Julio?

You were doing your rounds during your late shift and every time, you’d pass by Cassian’s room, lingering in front of the doorway before walking away again. When you came back, you heard voices inside, one of them was definitely Cassian.

“How many times do I have to apologize, Cass?” Julio asked, “We were young. Too young to even be a part of this fight. How do you expect a kid who had grown up in the lifestyle that I have to react when a blaster is pointed at their face? They fear death like everyone else.”

Cassian sighed. “I know.”

“Then why didn’t you want to talk to me?”

Cassian grew quiet.

“Well, I need some rest or else I slice my finger off the next time I’m in the workshop. I’ll come by later.” You hear the scrape of a chair as he stood up. “Oh, and talk to (Y/n). There’s been some misunderstandings going around and I’m not sure what started it. I just want things to be cleared up.”

You walked away as quietly as you could before Julio walked out. You sorted some papers out at the front desk and smiled as he passed by. This was the first time you’ve heard him mention anything about the small rumors going around base. You shrugged it off as joking around, but you made it clear that you and Julio were just friends. Granted, when he first settled down in the base, you were there to help him get used to the new place and stopped by to talk almost every day. Then, both of your schedules became busy, so those visits were reduced to once or twice a week. You could see why people who didn’t know the two of you well would misunderstand, but you never thought it was serious. Besides, what did Cassian have to do with it?

You still couldn’t bring yourself to talk to Cassian that night, and the night after that. Whenever you ended up helping a nurse in Cassian’s room, he’d be sleeping. You were off duty when he was discharged, rearranging your side of your shared quarters with Jyn after you moved in. She knew you hadn’t spoken to him yet and she refused to elaborate why you had to talk to him.

“This is almost the longest I’ve stayed in one place and that I actually want to stay,” you told her, “I feel… safe here.”

“Yeah?” Jyn asked with a small smile. She was about to add to that when a message popped up on her datapad. She read it through and she groaned. “Bodhi needs to get his arm fixed again,” she said, shaking her head, “I told him not to move anything heavy by himself. I have to go check up on him. Need anything while I’m out?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine. Thanks,” you said.

Jyn nodded, taking her datapad and made her way over to the hangar where Bodhi was. Once the door slid closed, you flopped backwards onto your small creaky bed and closed your eyes. This was where you’ll be staying for a long time, until the base relocated or the war was over. Home. That sounded nice on your ears. Maybe it’s going to be easier to get used to that now that you have found friends in Julio and the Rogue One crew. Well, except Cassian. That’s something you still have to deal with.

You hadn’t realized that you had fallen asleep until there was a knocking at the door. Jyn wasn’t back yet, so you quickly fixed your appearance and stumbled towards the door. You weren’t sure who would be knocking, but you assumed that they were looking for Jyn. What you hadn’t expected to see was Cassian standing there with his hand raised to knock again.

“Captain Andor?” you frowned. “Um, Jyn’s not here. She’s with Bodhi right now.”

He shook his head. “No, I came to see you, actually,” he said.

“Oh.” You blinked.

What was the proper etiquette for this kind of thing? Do you invite him in or go somewhere else to talk or…? You saw a mechanic pass by, eyeing the two of you curiously before hurrying away. You shuffled to the side and gestured for Cassian to come in. He tentatively stepped over the threshold and stood by the door as it closed behind him.

Cassian cleared his throat, patting his vest until he found the small cards he was looking for. He flipped through them with narrowed eyes, already regretting giving K-2SO and Julio permission to help him pick the words to say to you. Many of them were either insincere or too flirty to his taste.

“Is there something wrong, captain?” you asked.

“No!” he said quickly, making you jump, “No, no, no, no. I, uh, I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you lately.”

“Well, I did try to disobey your orders-”

“No, you did nothing wrong, I’m just… I’m just an asshole.”

Your eyes widened. “Captain-”

“Please call me Cassian. And… I was mainly mad at Julio during that mission. We knew each other when we were younger and we parted on bad terms. I was upset because I wasn’t able to let that go and when I saw you being close with him, I just… I don’t know. Then, people would talk about how you and Julio would make a cute couple and I just got… bothered by it. I didn’t know why, but what everyone has been telling me, they think it’s because I... ,” he cleared his throat again, “I like you.”

“Oh,” you breathed.

Maker, what do you do in this situation? Your heart was beating hard in your chest and at first it was kind of scary. There was no threat, it was just Cassian, but it gradually felt thrilling. Sure, you’ve noticed that the captain was a handsome man, but your mindset to do well on the mission got in the way of appreciating what you saw before you. It wasn’t like you had the time to properly get to know each other anyways.

“You don’t have to agree, but if you want, we could go somewhere offworld the next time our schedule is free, or maybe something simple like a walk or dinner-”

“Okay… I’d like that,” you said softly.

Cassian grinned, showing his dimples for the first time. “Uh, good. Um… good. That’s good. I’ll stop by the medbay later?” He slowly walked backwards towards the door.

“Sure.” You stepped forward and opened the door for him.

Cassian suddenly stumbled forward into you as Jyn, Bodhi, Chirrut, Baze, and Julio tumbled into the quarters. Cassian pulled you out of the way, his arm wrapped around your waist as he turned to see his friends groaning in pain and having the audacity to smile sheepishly up at the two of you.

“So… I’m guessing it went well?” Julio asked with a cheeky grin, carefully picking himself off the ground.

“We’ll see,” Jyn said, “If Cassian does anything to hurt (Y/n), I’ll hunt him down.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Cassian said, looking at you softly.

“What in the galaxy are all of you doing on the ground?” K-2SO demanded, framed by the doorway and blocking most of the corridor.

You sighed at this lovely chaos. You finally felt that this was your second chance at a new life where you could contribute to something good, somewhere where you felt like you belonged and wanted. You were tired of wandering. Tired of being scared to lose something or someone. You finally had people who you knew were going to stick with you.

Jyn walked up and looked over at Cassian with a smile before gently squeezing your shoulders.

“Welcome home, (Y/n).”

-

A/N:  And Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess. Enjoy discount chocolate, buy yourself flowers, and sit back while you watch Diego Luna in Narcos: Mexico

[theseviolentdelightss]

Counting Paths XVII

Series Summary: After a lifetime on the run from the Empire, Reader makes a move that could have drastic impacts for both friend and foe. A Reader insert/fanfic. Gifs belong to their respective owners.

Word Count: 4386

Author’s Note: Sorry again for the wait.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part XI Part XII Part XIII Part XIV Part XV Part XVI

It was cold when you awoke. Eyes fluttering slowly as the memories came flooding back. The cantina, the code black, running yourself ragged which would explain why it felt as if someone had taken every muscle in your body and rung them out like a soaked cloth.

“Called it!” The sound of Roland's voice, while a small comfort, did nothing to stifle the pounding in your head nor the ringing in your ears. It rather enhanced it, earning an agitated groan from you as your eyes struggled to adjust. “Two hours and fourteen minutes, everybody pay up!”

All around you came the sound of grumbles. Money being dug out of pockets and wallets as Roland chuckled proudly. His paw out and ready for the taking.

“Did you seriously take bets on how long I would be passed out?” You asked coolly once the crowd had cleared. Narrowing your eyes as you stared down the older rebel, hands over flowing with newly acquired credits.

“No...” Roland stuttered. If you hadn't known better you would have sworn you saw guilt in his eyes as he adverted his gaze. Catching a glimpse of your reflection it was easy to see why.

Fainting from exhaustion and dehydration had done you no favors. The color in your cheeks had yet to return and your hands trembled as you ran them over your face. Apparently the first medic on site had struggled to find a vein, leaving the inside of your elbow an abstract mess off deep purple and sickly yellow skin. The bruise bloomed around the needle in your arm like a dying violet. Growing more gruesome by the moment.

When word first made it to Roland that you had ran out of the bunker with less than three minutes to spare he had assumed it was just another rumor. They seemed to have been following you as of late. Sprouting like weeds about your feet. It was only when Penny began to panic, pushing through the rows of bunks and cots towards the small infirmary area that he began to believe it. Nearly 30 flights of stairs and you had ran it three times in under five minutes. It was no wonder the exhaustion had gotten the better of you, not to mention the liquor. “Well maybe-”

“Give it!” You held your hand out, turning your attention away as you waited.

Dragging his feet Roland placed the pile of money into your palm. Licking your thumb you flipped through it before handing over a small percentage.

“Finders fee.” You smirked softly, feeling your head beginning to clear.

Following the IV in your arm you recognized the mixture hanging above you. A combination of saline and nutrients. Glancing around it was obvious that you weren't the only casualty of today's surprising great escape. A handful of cots sat occupied in the dimness. Strangers with swollen ankles and knees, a man with a thick piece of gauze wrapped about his head. Even from this distance you could spot where the blood had began to seep through. On the cot nearest you Penny lay dozing with no sign of visual injuries. Gently pushing aside her red curls you couldn't help but chuckle as the drool ran down her cheek. For now she would be fine, the hangover wouldn't hit her till she woke up.

“Where's Zara?”

“Off sleeping I think. Took some skinny kid half an hour to convince her you'd be fine.” Roland replied. “Want me to go tell her you're up?”

“No let her rest.”

“They need you.” Roland's eyes again shifted to the ground as he spoke. “In the control room.”

“Why?” You asked, unsure as to why the Rebellion saw need to punish you so quickly. Sure, you had disobeyed a direct order which in itself wasn't a first, but no one had gotten seriously hurt. Minus the guard you had punched but he had it coming. You still had the scar beneath your hairline from where he had struck you long ago. That was well worth a week of messhall duty. Still, that wasn't an urgent matter, not enough to warrant a trip to the control room in the middle of a code black no less.

“The hell if I know.” Roland spit bitterly. He was an amazing soldier yet for all his military prowess he hated authority more than a hormonal teenager.  “Captain Andor ordered me to stay here and fetch ya as soon as you woke up so hop to it.”

“You do see the IV in my arm right?”

Licking his thumb and forefinger Roland reached forward, snatched the plastic butterfly wings on either side of the thin needle and slid it out from under your skin like a warrior drawing a sword.

“For fucks sake Roland!” You hissed, reaching up to smack the curly haired man across the back of the head. What had only moments before been a dull ache now stung white hot. “There's a reason people don't actually do that you jackass!”

A half roll of gauze and a handful of curses later Roland was escorting you through the dark tunnels that lead to the lowest level. To keep the temperature from spiking most everyone had been spread out among the various floors. The bunker itself had seven and at its heart sat the war council. The most highly concentrated area of people and still it did nothing to stave off the cold. By the time you made it through the beehive of workers busy at various consoles and tablets you could faintly see your breath in front of your face. Wrapping your arms around yourself you tried to find some degree of warmth. Dragging the sleeves of your jacket over the palms of your hands as Roland motioned you forward.  

“Baby...” Roland muttered, side eyeing you as you began to shiver.

“Not all of us have been blessed with blubber to keep us warm.” You replied, eyeing Roland's protruding gut. Typically you weren't one to shame a person for their body but considering this was the same man who had only minutes before ripped an IV from your arm, you found it in yourself to make an exception. Thankfully it shut him up, allowing you a few moments of silence before coming to a stop outside a large set of wooden double doors. Unlike most on base these had been built in the old style that swung inwardly rather than sliding open or closed.

“From here on out your on your own kid.” Roland leaned against the wall as he spoke, retrieving a small knife from his pocket he began to pic the dried grease out from under his fingernails.

Sighing you knocked on the old wood nervously. The door opened with a low groan, kicking up a whirl of dust around your feet as you slipped inside. The space was noticeably cooler, the mood even more so.

“Sargent L/N please come forward.” Mon Mothma spoke calmly as always. She was a decent and honorable woman but that didn't mean her composed demeanor wasn't hiding an ugly truth.

Perhaps they had finally decided you were too much of a liability.

Maybe this most recent act of defiance truly was the last straw.

Stepping forward into the dim light your eyes scanned the various faces for anyone who might speak on your behalf. Cassian's dark eyes found you instantly, as if your gaze had been magnetically drawn to him. He stood with his arms crossed, jaw tense as if he were grinding his teeth. Draven sat at the large wooden table that stood in the center of the room. A massive piece carved with the same script and symbols as the door behind you. It had likely been there as long as the temple itself. Standing strong for hundreds of years. You couldn't help but drag your fingers across the surface as you made you way to your seat. 

“We have serious matters to discuss.”

The edge to the ginger haired woman's tone might have upset you if it weren't for a sickening realization, one that washed over you like an icy wave.

“Where is Theodren?” You asked instantly, trying hard to hide the fear growing inside you. The silence that followed was no help, seconds ticking by like hours as you waited. “Where is-”

“We don't know.” Mon Mothma replied, her tone gentler than before yet straight to the point. No time for curtsies. “Commander Theodren had departed for Bakura shortly before we were alerted of an Imperial patrol entering our atmosphere. Until the code black has been lifted any attempts to contact him are impossible.”

It felt as if the floor had been ripped out from beneath you. That weightless feeling of falling that jolts you awake. Surely you must be dreaming. Your luck may have been notoriously bad but this was nightmarish. Grabbing a hold of the table for support you allowed your body to slump into the chair nearest you. Mon Mothma continued to speak, for how long you can't be sure, it wasn't until General Draven snapped his fingers in front of your face that your mind cleared. Glazed eyes blinking for the first time in minutes.

“Sergant L/N?” Mothma spoke calmly, holding out a hand to hush Draven as she stepped closer. The room was dim but it may as well have been pitch black. Even with eyes open you looked but did not see. It was only Theodren you thought of and the space where he should have stood. “You're bleeding.”

The words had no sooner left the woman's mouth when you felt the first drop collide with the back of your hand. Closing your eyes tightly you allowed a second and third to fall before reaching for the source. A stream of blood trailed from your right nostril. Stickily coating your fingertips and leaving the taste of metal on your lips. Out of the corner of your eye you watched as Cassian moved forward. His face calm and composed as ever. Before he could step any further you were already standing. Hand held firmly against your nose trying in vain to stem the flow. It made sense, your tears had long ago been used up, only blood remained to spare.

“I apologize...” You muttered, pushing yourself away from the table and towards the large doors you had came in through. They sprawled open rather easily at your touch. The chill of the room a distant memory as the heat bloomed at the base of your neck and began to spread. The mix of worry and fear enveloping you as you searched for an exit, not caring where it went. It was solitude you yearned for. A space of your own where you could internalize the wars currently raging between your head and your heart.

Sighing you spotted a door that led through yet another dark hallway. Pushing your way further down till the last door stood waiting. Without so much as a knock you let yourself in. The stale smell of dust and age rushing up to greet you as you stepped inside. Rows of empty shelves lined the walls. The pale light above flickering out as you settled to the floor.

You hadn't prayed in years. After everything you had done you doubted the anyone would pay you so much as a passing thought. Still, even as the cold seeped through your bones you found yourself murmuring the words. Blood stained hands held tightly together.

“I didn't know you prayed.”

“I don't-” You replied, red eyes adjusting to the small lantern the captain held in his hands. “not usually at least.”

“Neither do I.”

“Why not?”

“Because they were never answered.” Cassian's eyed you cautiously as he knelt in front of you. Noting that the bleeding that had provided you a perfect out had yet to stop. Sitting the lantern to the side Cassian dug his hands into his pocket, retrieving a clean rag he leaned forward to press it delicately around your nose.

“Mine were never answered either.” Your voice felt small as you reached forward, trying to take a hold of the rag yourself, expecting Cassian to let go yet he held on.

“What were you thinking?”

“Excuse me?”

There was no hiding the tone to your voice. It was one thing to question yourself. The last thing you needed right now was Cassian doing the same.

“I told you to stay where you were.” Cassian replied calmly, ignoring your weak attempt at an attitude.

“I never told you how my brother died, did I?” That caught him off guard. The frustration draining from his eyes as he gazed back at you. “Come to think of it, I'm not sure I ever mentioned him at all...”

Settling onto the floor with a thump Cassian let the rag slip from his grip. His expression gentler than before, clearly this new revelation was not what he had been expecting.

“His name was Willis I had just turned eight when he was born. I was so excited. I'd finally have a friend that I wouldn't have to say goodbye to after a few months...but mama died on the birthing bed so I had to step up. It wasn't easy, especially not at first. I was still just a kid myself, and a part of me hated him for taking my mother away, but that didn't last. He was too kind, too gentle to hate and he was so smart. He could be a real brat about it too, always correcting my spelling.” You chuckled lightly, losing yourself in a memory for one brief moment.

“He heard it first, woke me up. I thought he was just having another bad dream but then I heard it too. It all happened so fast, the chaos, the slaughter. It started in the outlying villages but it didn't take long to make its way into the city. All of the sudden they were in the streets, kicking down your door, coming through your front room window. That's when the exodus started. I had never seen anything like it. All around us the buildings were going up in flames. You could hear people screaming. I passed the body of the baker who had made my bread that morning lying in a gutter as we fled. His face was gone but I recognized his apron. It felt like we were at war.”

“Antar IV.” Cassian said quietly, turning his head to face you. “The massacre. You were there?”

Nodding you tried to steady your breathing. It had been years since you had spoken about that night and for good reason. Anytime it came up you felt your pulse quicken, the cold sweat forming on the back of your neck. As if some small part of you was forever trapped in the moment and just for a second it had pulled the rest of you under. Drowning you on dry land.

“I lost my father's hand in the crowd, my brother begged me to go back, but I had promised...so I didn't. I couldn't. I wanted to more than anything but I knew if I stopped, if I looked back we would both be lost. So I lied. I told him we would meet my father at the ship. The old man had been working on the same one for ages, kept it docked at this little hole in the wall station he worked at. I thought for sure by the time we got there all that would be left was ash and rubble but there it stood. No more than twenty yards away. I was moving so fast I didn't even see him until-”

You voice hitched in your throat with a weak shudder. The hairs on the back of your neck standing on end as you began to run your hands up and down your thighs.

“I begged him to let us go. We were just children. I swore to him we wouldn't tell anyone, not a soul, but he just put us in his sights.” Turning your eyes to the ceiling you were happy not to have to look at Cassian's face as he heard what came next. “I tried to move Willis out of the way, but he had twisted his ankle during the run and I was carrying him. All I could do was turn around, try to cover him with myself but it didn't make any difference. That fucker cut us down like we were nothing.”

“How did you survive?” Cassian asked softly.

“I drove a screw driver through his eye and out the back of his skull.” You replied coolly, the sadness in your voice replaced with an entirely different emotion. “The first life I ever took and it didn't even matter. Willis died anyways. He bleed out in my arms. One second he was crying and trying to say something and then he just...went still. I had never seen someone die before but I watched as the spark drained from my brothers eyes, and that pain...”

Again you had to stop, try to calm your thumping heart as it pounded away against your chest. There was a reason you avoided this subject. It was always painful to speak of, but now with Theodren's fate so uncertain it only served to frighten you more. To remind you of what it felt like to lose someone you love.

“I didn't think I'd ever get over it so I locked that part of me away. Stopped caring about everything and everyone.”

Across from you Cassian shifted, leaning his back against the wall as he took in all you had to say. Not entirely sure if he should be relieved that you were sharing so much with him or worried. Crossing his arms to stave off the chill he watched as you fidgeted with your hands, pulling at the edges of your sleeves, tucking those relentless loose curls behind your ears. His own hands itched to reach out, take a hold of your own and still them but he thought better of it. Now wasn't the time.  

“I didn't join the Rebellion because I wanted to be a hero Cassian. I didn't give a damn about glory. A quick death was all I wanted, but then I met Theodren, and he was alone too. He was the only one that ever...he was my one true friend. I lost him once already, I don't want to lose him again.”

“You won't.” Cassian said with a bit too much certainty, overcompensating in his hopes of comforting you. “Theodren is the smartest person I know. I'm sure once this code black has lifted you'll hear from him.”

“Why are you here Cassian?” You asked suddenly, the urge to be alone over powering your usual politeness.

“I was worried about you.” He replied, not defensive in the least. A welcome surprise given your own change in demeanor.  “Didn't want you to be alone.”

“I appreciate that Cassian, truly I do, but you don't have to worry about me.” You stated, maintaining your full attention on him. Noting the subtle change in the distance between the two of you. Typically the captain preferred to put added space between the both of you yet today seemed the expectation.

“Look, I worry.” He stated simply, laying his hand out flat in a gesture to simply accept that fact and let it go. “Just promise me you won't do anything stupid.”

“Cass I-” Chewing your bottom lip you considered lying, it would be easiest for everyone but Cassian deserved the truth. “It's Theodren, if there is even a small chance I have to try.”

“Are you in love with him?” Cassian asked, his eyes glued intensely to your own.

“Who?” You scoffed. “Theodren?”

The dark haired rebel nodded sheepishly and in that moment you could have kissed him because despite everything that had happened Cassian had managed to do the unthinkable. He made you laugh. No sweeter a gift could he have given you in that moment.

“What?” You half chuckled, the very idea of it still tickling your sides. Not that Theodren wasn't a catch, it was just so far removed from anything you could have imagined. The two of you had been best friends for years and not once had there been even an inkling of romance. “No! Of course I love him but Theodren is like family to me.”

“I understand.”

“Are you alright?” You asked, watching as Cassian began to draw in on himself. Scooting himself to sit with his back straight and flush against the wall. Hands swiftly shoved into the pockets of his jacket.

“I'm fine.” He replied but you simply shook your head. How the hell was this guy a spy?

“You're a shitty liar you know that.” You nudged Cassian's knee with your foot as you spoke. Thankful that the tension had for a moment been lessened enough to catch your breath.

“Only with you.” His answer was short but it was enough to return the tension tenfold.

Whelp, that didn't last long...

“And that bothers you?”

“I'd be a fool if it didn't.” Cassian's brows knitted as he spoke, looking any where but at you.

“Why?” Leaning forward you grabbed a hold of Cassian's hand and squeezed it tightly. “What's so wrong with being honest with me?”

“You're always saving people.” Cassian said simply, at last turning his gaze to meet your own.

“What-”

“Just-just listen.” He insisted calmly and you couldn't blame him. You were well aware of your bad habit of interrupting people. It wasn't that you were rude, some people just spoke so slowly by comparison.

“You're always saving people. You saved Zara, you saved Roland, hell you saved me the night we met. Its who you are.” Sighing Cassian let his eyes drift to where your fingers sat wrapped around his own. Your knees inching closer, unwilling to give in to his poor attempt at gaining distance.  

“When I came down here I wanted to yell at you, to tell you that you were being foolish, convince you to stop...but I can't because that's not you.” Shaking his head Cassian smiled gently, his eyes warmer than before. Filled with an emotion you couldn't quite peg down but you were all too aware of how it made you feel.

“What's so wrong with that?” You half whispered.

“Nothing.” Cassian answered, turning your hand over in his own. Fingertips softly tracing along the lines of your palm. “Nothing, it just frightens me.”

“Cass I'm fine, seriously you don't have to worry-” You tried to put on your best smile as you spoke. If Cassian truly worried about you the least you could do was assure him you would try your best to stay alive. It was a bit of a priority anyways but if it mattered to someone else why not try harder?

Even if you weren't sure how to feel about it.

“And what if you weren't?” He asked sharply, turning the tables and instead interrupting you. “I know why you went back for Zara. I know why you want to go after Theodren. Because what if something happens and you could have done something but didn't? Then that's on you right? But if you go back and something happens to you then that's on me.”

“I'm not your responsibility anymore.” 

“It's not like that.”

“Then what is it?” You pushed, trying to hide the faintest hint of desperation in your voice. As if months of second guessing had inevitability lead you here. “What are you so afraid of Cassian?”

“You want to know what I'm afraid of?” Cassian eyes burned as he leaned closer, bursting the tiny bubble of personal space that existed between the two of you. “Losing you.”

And there it was. The truth you had been running from. It wasn't often that you felt vulnerable. It wasn't the sort of thing you were allowed, not if you wanted to stay alive.

“Your turn, no bullshit this time.” Cassian said, his mouth twitching as he spoke.

Taking a sharp breath through your nose you allowed yourself a moment of rational thought. To think of how very wrong this may all go. How much you could stand to lose, but that moment ended.

Unblinking you watched as Cassian's eyes flickered with longing. Something you only now realized had been there all along. They continued to follow your every move, watching as you inched closer until your knee dug into his thigh. Trembled and shifted. A pale hand snaking its way along the back of his neck. For a moment Cassian felt as if his brain had stalled, unable to process what was happening like a teenager second guessing themselves, but then you kissed him, putting those fears to rest in an instant. It was everything he had remembered from that night many months ago when he had first stolen a taste. 

Only now there was no limit. No hesitance.

It surprised you as well, how easily you melted into his grasp. Calloused hands swept along your sides until your shirt began to bunch between his fingers. The touch of his skin burning as it grazed your own. Feather light fingers threading through your hair as he pressed you against him.

Sometime later after you finally gave in to the need for oxygen did you allow the reality of what had just happened sink in. The terrifyingly true severity of it washing over you all at once. Still, it was impossible not to smile and lean into the palm of Cassian's hand as he held you close. Foreheads pressed against one another. So close you could feel his every exhale on your skin.

“That.” You finally admitted, knowing for certain that you were now well and truly fucked.

[joeybelle]

Starlight - Chapter 27

Cassian Andor x OFC

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Angst, Strong language

Size: 7900

*

Waiting was the worst part. Cora worked and worked and when she didn’t, she made sure to keep busy somehow, but even so she still found herself looking out the window, waiting for Cassian’s return.

The rumours had spread like wildfire and although nothing had been confirmed yet, everyone was expecting the worst. They weren’t talking openly about it and, as far as she could tell, they were all acting like everything was fine, but the frightened look in their eyes told a different story.

Cora ended up spending some time with Melshi, who’d come in for a random check-up, something pretty unusual for him. So, after she made sure he wasn’t dying, she offered him a cup of coffee. She suspected he’d only come to keep her company, and she was really grateful for that.

“What do you think about all this?” she asked, after long minutes of silence and staring into their cups and out the window.

“We’ll have to wait and see,” he shrugged. He didn’t look too stressed, but he had always seemed to keep his composure better than most. Cora wondered if he was that good at hiding it or he just wasn’t fazed by the rumours.

“What will we do if there actually is such a weapon?”

“We fight it! What else can we do?” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Cora wondered just how much of these rebels’ bodies were made of courage and pure optimism.

She propped her chin on her hand, and leaned closer. “How do you fight a planet killer?” she asked with the air of someone who wasn’t really expecting an answer.

“Maybe we can stop them before it’s finished,” he tried giving one anyway. “I mean, we don’t know if it’s finished yet, right? Isn’t that where that Galen Erso dude comes in?” He pulled a pack of crackers from his pocket, ripped it open and pushed it towards Cora. “If he’s built it, he has to know how to destroy it. That’s what I would do. That’s the smart thing to do,” he mumbled.

“I suppose,” she said, taking a cracker, but not biting into it.

“I’ve heard you know them,” he said, filling his mouth with crackers. Cora nodded. “Feisty, isn’t she? Knocked me right onto my ass when we tried to free her.”

So he’d been part of the rescue mission. Of course he’d be, he was one of the best and Cassian trusted him with his life.

“She didn’t seem that feisty to me,” Cora smiled, flipping the rectangular snack between her fingers.

“Well, you see that’s cause you’re scary,” he laughed.

“Really?”

“Really.” Cora could tell he was joking. She knew there was nothing scary about her. “Especially when you’re pissed at Cassian. That’s peak scary.”

She snickered, but then looked out the window again. “Do you think he’s alright?”

“Yeah, he’s a resilient bastard that one. Lucky too,” he said, throwing the empty coffee cup into the trash. “Don’t worry too much about him.”

She’d tried, but she couldn’t help herself. She wasn’t worried only about Cassian, she was worried about the future as a whole. Waiting and not knowing what was going on was killing her. She almost knocked onto the War Room door a couple of times, just to ask what was happening, but she figured there was no reason for her to interrupt them to ask stupid questions. She’d find out eventually, she needed to be patient.

Melshi’s presence was comforting. Despite his somewhat aggravating personality, he knew when to speak and when to shut up. He followed her around the med bay as she was keeping herself busy, telling her jokes, asking about stuff, helping her keep her focus away from the feeling of impending doom. She suspected he needed a little company too and wasn’t doing it only for her sake, so she appreciated his presence even more.

The roaring of engines made them both drop everything and rush to the window. Cora looked at the squadron leaving the strip, holding her breath.

“What do you think is going on?”

“No idea,” he replied, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder and pulling her into a half hug. Cora shuddered, and forced herself to even out her breathing.

“Doctor Enoch,” she heard a voice coming from the doors and they both turned to look. “Your presence is required in the War Room.”

Her heart nearly stopped, and the only reply she could give was a curt nod. She looked at Melshi, but his face didn’t betray any emotion.

“I’ll see myself out,” he said, patting her shoulder. “Go see what the higher ups want this time.”

Cora nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered as she passed him and earned a smile from the sergeant.

The War Room was in an even bigger frenzy than before. She was guided towards the back, where Mothma was talking to Doctor Crane, looking all serious. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. She could feel her knees getting weaker with every step she was taking and she didn’t need a mirror to know that she was deathly pale. There was no reason for her to be called unless something really bad had happened. Cassian’s face appeared before her eyes and she nearly burst into tears.

“Everyone’s alright,” Doctor Crane assured her, before she could even open her mouth to say anything and Cora couldn’t thank him enough. She could finally breathe, although the knot in her throat was still there.

“But the weapon’s been confirmed,” Mothma continued. “It’s been used to destroy the holy city of Jedha.”

Cora’s breath hitched. So it was true. “And the crew?” she managed to mumble through shaky fingers.

“They’re currently running an extraction operation on Eadu. We’ve sent them some backup.”

“Eadu?!”

“Yes, are you familiar with it?” Mothma asked, curious.

“I know about it,” Cora said, realizing her reaction had been completely out of proportion. “Research facility. Shit weather. But you probably already know that.”

“Yes, we do. However, I don’t expect this extraction to go smoothly, no matter how much faith I have in our operatives. I do expect at least a few to… to get hurt,” she said. “I want you two leading the welcoming party; get them patched up before we talk to them. I don’t want anyone dying on us.”

Cora sighed with relief. She was still scared, frightened even, but at least now she knew what she had to do. “I’ll assemble a team and wait for them on the tarmac,” she said, before realizing she’d gone completely over Doctor Crane’s head. She glanced at the doctor, but he just nodded.

“I’ll prep the OR and make sure we’re ready for whatever might come,” he added.

“Good,” Mothma said, smiling briefly. “We’ll let you know if we find out anything else.” And she was gone, leaving Cora with Doctor Crane.

Cora didn’t waste much time either. She had a job to do, and for the first time since the superweapon rumour, she actually felt in control. As much as she could be, given the situation.

She could see Draven in the distance as she crossed the room, looking pretty distressed. She was sure that it wasn’t a good sign, but at this point what was? If she wanted to remain sane, she had to trust that Cassian was smart and lucky enough to come back to her. In mendable pieces, at least. She left the War Room in a hurry, not wanting to see or hear anything else. She felt like the weight of the world was pushing down on her shoulders.

Getting a team ready was really easy: everyone knew what they had to do—they’d done it a million times before—and they rarely questioned orders, even though Cora wasn’t usually the one giving them. But the wait was grueling. Having to stand on the tarmac, looking at a strip of gray sky not knowing anything was exhausting.

Well, she knew a little about what was going on, Mon Mothma had kept her promise and had gotten someone to fill her in. There were five people, not counting K2. The pilot had been imprisoned and might have been tortured by Saw Gerrera and they didn’t know what shape he might be in, so he was top priority. The others appeared to be functional, but Cora knew Cassian well enough to know that he could still function pretty well while being deathly wounded, so she didn’t trust it until she had the chance to examine him. So she waited.

Jedha had been completely wiped off the face of the planet, someone had told her. Only one beam of concentrated energy was all it took to destroy a whole city and everyone inside it. She wondered if anyone had escaped. Probably not. She hoped Cassian didn’t wait around until it was almost too late, but knowing him, he could have just barely survived the blast. She didn't want to know. It was better not to think about it.

But she couldn’t not think about what the existence of the weapon meant for them. She hoped with all her heart that they found Galen Erso and that he could help them destroy it before it did more harm. The only thing she could do right now was to hope.

She knew it was them when she saw an imperial cargo ship coming into sight. It was the last piece of intel she had received, that they would be coming back in a stolen ship. It was a Zeta shuttle, and it made her wonder what had happened with Cassian’s U-Wing. Actually, she didn’t want to know. She only hoped he was okay. That all of them were okay.

The medical personnel rushed towards the landing ship. The first one to come into sight was K2, and Cora breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that he was in one piece. He was followed by a couple of people she didn’t know and a reasonably angry looking Jyn.

“Which one of you is the pilot?”

“Depends on the situation,” K2 replied and Cora had a feeling he’d go into a full blown tirade if she wouldn’t stop him.

“The Imperial pilot.”

K2 pointed a finger at the figure hiding behind his metal frame. “Yeah-yeah, that would be me,” he stuttered, his hunched shoulders making him look smaller than he actually was. “Former… Imperial pilot,” he added, looking down.

“I’m Doctor Cora Enoch,” she said, trying to seem as friendly as possible—Melshi’s words still echoing through her mind even though she knew it was bullshit.

Cassian showed up from behind K2 and passed Cora without even looking at her, striding towards Jyn. They exchanged a few hasty words before heading towards the temple.

“Hey!” Cora yelled after him, making him stop, but not turn around. “Captain Andor, you’ll have to first get through me before going anywhere else.” Her voice sounded more desperate than commanding. He still wouldn’t look at her and Cora was hit by a wave of coldness.

“There’s no time,” he spat and continued walking, Jyn following close by.

“One day I’ll nail you to a bed and dunk you in bacta,” she mumbled, giving up and turning her attention to the other, less stubborn patients, because she knew that no matter how much she wanted to run after him to make sure he was alright, there were other priorities. She knew what her duty was and at that point Cassian wasn’t at the top of the list. Shouldn’t be at the top of the list. She forced herself to focus on the others.

One of them smiled, the one Cora assumed was blind, by the haziness of his eyes. “It won't be that easy getting the captain to sit still long enough to nail him down.” The other man chuckled.

“I've got my means,” she said, allowing a sad smile to play on her lips before becoming serious once again. “Would you two please follow the other medics for a quick check-up?”

“I don't think it would be necessary. We weren’t wounded.”

“Yeah, don't bother with us, we're fine. Just the kid,” the burly one said, pointing at the pilot. “He's been through a lot.”

Cora nodded. “I promise it's gonna be quick,” she insisted. “If anything, they’ll at least fetch you something to eat and drink before the Council will require your presence.” She had no idea who these two were and how they ended up on Cassian's ship— although she had a hunch Cassian might have kidnapped them— but they were her responsibility until further notice so she wanted them taken care of as best as possible. Fortunately, they didn't seem to be the stubborn kind and actually agreed after what she considered to be only minimal protests.

“My name is Chirrut Imwe,” the blind one said, smiling as he followed the other medics. “My friend here is Baze Malbus. It was a pleasure to meet you, Corinthia Enoch.”

Cora’s blood froze in her veins, her breath catching in her throat. She wasn’t used to hearing her full name anymore, especially not from people she didn’t know. She looked after him over her shoulder, wondering how much of a threat he was to her. There was no reason some blind dude Cassian had picked up from fuck knows where should know who she was.

“Come on, Chirrut. You're scaring her,” the other one added.

“I didn’t mean to scare her,” he responded, turning around and taking a couple steps in her direction, but the one he’d called Baze Malbus put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about me, I’m a friend,” he said with a smile.

Cora smiled in reply but it was forced. “Please follow the medics,” she said, trying to hide her unease. Something told her she should have kept her blaster on hand. “Who are they?” she asked in a hushed tone, once they were far enough to not hear her.

“Guardians of the Wills,” the pilot replied. “They guard the Jedi temple on Jedha… well, used to.” The sadness was very easily noticeable on his face. Cora felt for him, she knew it would be insanely painful having to watch a whole city being completely erased.

“Are they Jedi too?” she asked, trying to shift his attention a bit. She’d only heard stories about the Jedi and it was really hard to imagine that there had been a day when they’d existed as more than just legends.

“No… I don’t think so.”

“Alright then. Will you follow me, please?” she said him, before turning around to look at the black droid. “Are you okay? Do you want me to call someone to check you up?” She had no idea how to look after a droid—her engineering background could come in handy in a pinch, but she didn’t trust herself to do a good job. However, she knew she could find someone who knew.

K2 scoffed, or at least that’s how Cora interpreted the cacophony of noises. “I’m fine. I wouldn’t let anyone besides Cassian poke at me anyway,” he said in an offended tone and Cora did her best to hide a smile. Of course he wouldn’t.

“As you wish,” she said, motioning for the pilot, who was still hiding behind K2, to follow. “You know where to find me if you need anything,” she told the droid, as she waited for the pilot to climb down the ramp. His legs were a little wobbly.

She suggested a gurney, but he refused, insisting to walk to the med bay instead. K2 followed them with his eyes until they disappeared inside the temple.

Cora decided to take the pilot, Bodhi Rook—as he introduced himself—to the main med bay upstairs. It was the best equipped and it was the place she felt most comfortable in. She let the others take care of Chirrut Imwe and Baze Malbus downstairs, since they seemed to be in pretty good shape, according to the few tests they’d run already.

Bodhi Rook was in a much better shape than she’d expected, although the scanners did show some worrying signs. She’d hooked him to an IV to make up for dehydration and lack of nutrients, gave him some antibiotics for his wounds and something to calm him down a bit, since he was a little jittery.

“You have suffered some sort of brain injury recently,” she said, frowning at his brain scan. “It’s not extensive and it’s already starting to heal, but I’ve never seen this pattern before.”

Showing her patients that she didn’t have a clue what was going on was tabu, but she was curious. She knew he had been tortured and he looked the part, but she had no idea how he’d gotten that sort of injury. It wasn’t consistent with head trauma, there were no signs of asphyxiation, it didn’t look like a stun gun or baton either. It was something she’d never seen before.

“Oh,” he said, his face lighting up like he actually knew the answer. “That was Bor Gullet. I think,” he explained.

“What’s Bor Gullet?”

“That’s what Saw Gerrera called it,” he said, and a wave of unease could be seen clouding his features. “It’s this creature, with tentacles. It can get into your head and find out things. Read your mind, find out if you’re lying.”

Cora felt a cold shiver run down her spine. “A mairan? They have a mairan?”

“I suppose.”

Cora shuddered. Bor Gullet. She remembered them being called Bors. Now his injuries made sense. She’d never tended to someone who had been interrogated with the help of a mairan, but the brain damage was consistent with what she had read.

“They’re terrible creatures,” was all she managed to mutter, trying not to let out all the hate and bitterness inside her. “And so are the people using them.”

“Have you ever seen one?”

“No, but I read about them.” She didn’t tell him that she first read about them in her father’s file and then when she researched the reconditioning facility where he was imprisoned for almost two years. She didn’t tell him that sometimes, even now, she had nightmares that she would be caught and a mairan would suck all the information out of her head and there would be nothing she could do to stop them. And he didn’t ask.

But they talked about little things. Their shared experience working for the Empire, their childhood, some gossip… however, all of these converged into the sad reality of their existence today. None of them could deny the threat the Empire posed, so the conversation eventually died down as they got lost in their thoughts.

The silence between them was comforting, at least. He’d been a really diligent patient, unlike a certain Captain Cora knew. She was still bitter that Cassian had brushed her off earlier, and was really set on getting revenge. Unlike him, Bodhi Rook was calmly sitting in the range of a healing field generator, and he hadn’t even tried scratching off the bacta patches Cora had applied on his various cuts and bruises. She really liked him.

It wasn’t long before someone came to get them. While she wasn’t explicitly invited to take part in the meeting she followed anyway and no one stopped her. There were a lot more people in the War Room than she had ever seen before, mostly unfamiliar faces. She assumed this was the whole Council gathered together for the first time since she’d joined them. How they managed to get them all in one place in only a few hours was a mystery, but she assumed the realization of impending doom had some magical properties.

Cassian was standing at the edge of the crowd, arms crossed over his chest looking terribly guarded. All eyes were fixed on Jyn telling them what had happened, so Cora advanced towards Cassian. She didn’t expect her hand on his elbow to be met with any kind of enthusiasm—after all, he wasn’t one to show his feelings in public—but she didn’t expect him to brush it off.

“Hey,” she whispered, pulling her hand back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he whispered back and took a step to the side, widening the gap between them. “Just busy.” Nothing more. No ‘I’ll talk to you when this is over’, nothing. He advanced through the crowd, until there were at least ten people between them.

Cora didn’t follow. She knew she wasn’t wanted there, and although she didn’t understand the shift, she didn’t question it. He was busy, that much was true, but she didn’t think that she was such a distraction that he wouldn’t be able to focus with her nearby. They would have to talk about this at some point, sooner rather than later, because Cora was starting to get tired of the uncertainty in their relationship. It seemed things were going well between them, and now this.

She assumed the whole imminent death by planet killer was to blame, but wouldn’t that make people kinder? The realization that life was fleeting and the ‘now’ was the only certainty they had?

Cora tried to focus on what was going on around her so she wouldn’t start tearing up. This wasn’t the moment to overanalyze Cassian’s odd behaviour.

The council listened to the story, both from Jyn and Bodhi and, as expected, they started fighting. All of them were scared, some of them visibly so, some hiding it behind a mask of cockiness. She understood very well the urge to drop everything and run into hiding. They would have to either stand their ground and fight, risking being wiped with the planets they inhabited or disband the Alliance, letting the Empire win. Cora didn’t think they would be able to reunite again, once they disbanded. Not to this scale, at least. Everyone would hide as best as they could and live for the rest of their life in fear.

She understood why anyone would choose to live. A year ago she would have done the same thing in the blink of an eye. Even now, her brain was telling her to take that one way ticket out of there that Mothma had offered her, but she hoped with all her heart that they would find a way, find a solution. She couldn’t leave— she didn’t want to—as long as Cassian was still there. As long as her friends and her new found home were still with the Rebellion.

She listened in silence. She didn’t have much to say, and even if she did, she doubted it would make any difference. Jyn had been really passionate, and her speech seemed to have moved some of them, but the majority was still too scared to agree to diving head first into a battle that had all the odds stacked against them.

Their plan sounded crazy too: attacking Scarif to try and steal some plans. That wasn’t something that was going to work, she was certain of it. She knew the security would be really tight, especially now that they knew there was a traitor. Maybe they’d have a chance if they waited, let things settle a bit, and then infiltrate the compound. She might be able to help them out a little, she thought. But by the way they were speaking, it didn’t seem like they’d have the time for that.

“I say the Rebellion is finished,” said one of the senators, and Cora’s breath caught in her throat. She never thought hearing those words would bring so much pain, but her hand went to her chest, clutching the uniform above her rapidly beating heart.

She didn’t believe them. Until she saw it with her own eyes, she wouldn’t believe that the Rebellion was done for.

“I’m sorry, Jyn,” said Mon Mothma. “Without the full support of the council, the odds are too great.”

Cora sighed. She figured as much. They weren’t prepared for such an endeavour right then. But Cora had faith that they would be able to find a way to get the plans and find a way to defeat the weapon in the end. After all, they had the best people working for the Rebellion. They just needed the time to think it through and find the best solution. She wanted to think that this was just one of the bigger bumps in their path, but one they will eventually be able to overcome. Her heart felt heavy.

The meeting was over, it seemed. Everyone was leaving the room, so Cora looked around for Cassian. She’d almost forgotten his outburst earlier, but she felt another pang of unease when she couldn’t spot him anywhere. He must have slipped out of the room when she wasn’t looking. Even in the busy corridor, he was nowhere to be seen. She’d have to hunt him through the base, but she’d do it if that was the only way.

“Doctor,” someone called, and Cora turned around to see Jyn following her. “I thought you might want your blaster back,” she said, touching the holstered pistol with the palm of her hand. Cora liked how she didn’t pull it out to hand it to her in front of everyone. She seemed to know how not to attract attention. She reminded her of Cassian somehow.

“I believe you’d get a lot more use out of it than I would,” Cora said with a smile. “I’m just a doctor after all.” Jyn didn’t insist, instead pulled her jacket to hide the weapon. “Speaking of which, I’d like you to follow me for a routine checkup.” Her voice sounded surprisingly unfamiliar even to herself. She had no idea why she was using her very professional tone, even with someone she was supposed to know. It kept her grounded, she assumed. Her brain was screaming.

“I’m fine,” the girl said, retreating into the wall behind her, something else that reminded Cora of Cassian. “There’s no need for that,” she continued.

“It only takes ten minutes, then you’re free to go,” Cora said, hoping that she was less stubborn than a certain Captain. But if she was, Cora was sure she had enough authority to be able to order her around, even if Jyn was the one with an unregistered blaster. But eventually Jyn nodded and followed her down the corridor. “Have you seen Bodhi Rook?” she asked, scanning the crowd for the pilot.

“I think I saw him head to the elevators,” she shrugged and Cora frowned.

“He should be resting, not walking around the building,” Cora said in a very pronounced imperial manner, an accent that she just now noticed—before turning on her heels and walking towards the med bay with Jyn in tow.

She was shaking. Not her hands, her hands were steady and her face stony as she helped Jyn enter the full body scanner, but her whole being felt like it was vibrating at a high frequency, ready to break any second. She needed to find Cassian, she needed him to assure her that everything was going to be alright. That he was going to be alright. She knew it was selfish, but to her the wellbeing of the entire world somehow came second to his safety.

Jyn was diligently waiting for Cora to finish running her tests, but she seemed jittery. She was nervously picking at the skin around one of her thumb nails almost to the point of drawing blood.

“I’m sorry about your father,” Cora eventually said, not looking her in the eye, but keeping her eyes glued to the data-pad in her hands. “He was a good man.”

“Was he though?” her voice sounded defiant and angry, but Cora expected that. “I don’t know, I didn’t have the time to talk to him because he was killed.”

Cora didn’t know what to say. ‘I’m sorry’ sounded mechanical even in her own mind, and after all, it wasn’t her fault. But she also knew that she wasn’t going to get an apology from the ones that were at fault either, not after the blatant mistrust they showed her in the War Room.

“I’m sorry,” she eventually said, putting the data-pad down on a counter and motioning for Jyn to hop up on the consultation table. “But I think he was a good man. He did what he had to do, and his help is now our only hope. I don’t think I would have been brave enough to try and sabotage the Empire right under their noses.” Cora smiled.

“You left.”

“Took me a very long time to do it, and I had help.”

“You know, I’ve been dreaming about him lately,” she suddenly said, looking down at her hands. “About him and mom. I haven’t thought about them for years, but now it’s like… all of it is coming back. I don’t know if they’re memories or just… he used to tell me to remember that he will always protect me,” her voice trailed off and Cora could see the glimmer of tears in her eyes. She didn’t know what to do, so she started applying bacta patches on her bruises. “In the end, I wasn’t able to return the favour.”

“It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

“It is,” she said, her voice picking up in intensity. “If I can’t even convince them that what he said is true, if we can’t get the plans… It was all in vain. He died for nothing.”

“Trust Cassian,” Cora said with conviction. “He’ll find a way. He always does.” No matter the cost, she thought, but didn’t say it out loud as if afraid that saying the words out loud would automatically make them true.

“Do you love him?” she asked out of the blue, looking up to meet Cora’s eyes.

“Yes,” Cora answered, the weight of the statement only registering after she had said it. “I do.”

Cora dropped the leftover patches on a tray and took off her gloves. “You seem to be in pretty good shape, considering,” she said with a smile. “Although the wounds are superficial, I’d advise you to take it easy and rest for the time being. I can offer you a room with a bed—”

“Thanks,” she interrupted, and Cora wasn’t surprised in the least. “I think I should go find Bodhi. See if he’s alright. He seemed a little bit shaken.”

Cora nodded and didn’t stop her when she gathered her stuff and headed for the door. She knew deep down that the right thing to do would be to stop her, get her to rest and heal even against her will, but she was tired. “If anything happens with either of you, if you feel unwell in any way, come see me,” she said.

Jyn assured her she’d do so and left. Cora crashed onto a chair, covering her face with the palms of her hands. She really hoped she’d wake up and find out it’s been just another bad dream. Unfortunately, she felt incredibly lucid. Her mind was still buzzing.

She knew she had to pull herself together if she was going to be of any help, but she was scared and she had no idea what they could do about it. If she were to be completely honest, the idea of disbanding the Rebellion for the time being was getting more and more enticing.

They didn’t have to disband it for good, no, but they could lay low for a while, move the troops around so they wouldn’t be one single, easy to destroy target. Try to find out what the Empire was planning, find a way to get the plans in the meantime. After all, the Rebellion had some of the best spies in the Galaxy. Sending all of their troops to crash and burn on the Scarif shield was madness, especially since they knew there had been a security breach and they expected an attack. They had to do something, but a direct clash wasn’t probably the way to go right then. Maybe taking a step back would be the best strategy for the time being.

Cora’s fingers were still pressing her temples while her eyes fixed a tiny dark spot on the ceiling when K2 entered the med bay, startling her.

“Hey K,” she said, getting up the chair and fixing her uniform. “What can I help you with?”

The droid seemed a little confused, looking around the place as if this was the first time he’d seen the place.

“I have a favour to ask,” he said, and although his mechanical voice sounded the same as always, Cora thought there was a sense of hesitation surrounding him.

“Sure,” she said, becoming increasingly aware of the tension in the air. “Anything.”

The droid hesitated a little more, poking at a perpetual motion machine that Doctor Crane had put onto his desk. The ticking of the spheres hitting each other filled the room and the droid watched them for a few moments in silence.

Cora waited. Only when he moved towards her did she ask what she could help him with.

“I have something I would like you to hold onto for me, until I come back. It’s important to me and I wouldn’t want it to get lost.”

“Sure,” Cora replied, and the droid placed a blue, iridescent crystal in the palm of her hand. It was an octahedron no bigger than her thumb, its eight sides perfectly smooth, turning a coppery shade whenever one of them caught the light. There seemed to also be a sort of glow coming from the inside, but it might have very well have been the med bay lights reflecting weirdly inside the crystal. “Are you sure you want me to look after this?” It looked really expensive and by the way K2 talked about it, it seemed to be really important to him. “Wouldn’t Cassian be able to take better care of it?”

The droid snorted, if it could be called that way the noise he made. “He can’t even look after himself,” the droid replied. “I think you’d be able to take better care of it until we come back.”

“Where are you headed off to this time?” Cora asked, a shiver of fear running through her.

“Scarif.” The name hit her in the face like a cargo ship coming at full speed. “Cassian is convincing people to go to Scarif to retrieve the plans,” he said, matter of factly.

Cora felt her hands suddenly getting cold. “Now?” she asked, hanging on the tiny bit of hope that maybe she’d understood it wrong, but the droid nodded. “But that’s suicide,” she almost yelled, her voice cracking as she felt tears welling in her eyes. “I’ve gotta talk to him.”

Cora ran out of the med bay, almost knocking into a couple of people on her way out. It was the first time the elevator ride felt like an eternity. Maybe she was too late. She knew she wasn’t, because Cassian would never leave K2 behind, but what if… She clutched the crystal in the palm of her hand, the sharp edges digging into her skin. This wasn’t what she had in mind when she hoped Cassian would find a solution. She’d hoped he’d do it without killing himself.

When the elevator doors opened, she didn’t have the power to run anymore, so she just walked to the handful of people suspiciously gathered in the middle of the hangar, digging through a pile of supply crates. She knew most of them. They’d played Sabacc together and drank shitty jet juice, hidden away in their little makeshift bar in the catacombs. Most of them avoided her gaze when she got near. Melshi winked at her when he made eye contact, but didn’t say anything. Cora was much too jittery to say hello.

Cassian was there, of course, and so was Jyn and Bodhi and the other two she couldn’t name. He had his back turned to her, almost as if he was trying his best to pretend she hadn’t stopped a couple of meters behind him. She knew he’d noticed her, he always did.

“Andor, can I have a word with you?” It wasn't a question and her voice sounded harsh, but the forced rigidity of her body was the only thing that was keeping her from falling apart, as if she’d lose composure even for a second she’d break into a million pieces.

He seemed annoyed when he looked at her, the frown on his face accentuating, but nodded anyway.

“Oooo, you fucked up,” Melshi laughed as they were leaving the group to find a quieter place to talk, but his voice lacked his usual cheer. Cora didn’t look back, afraid that she’ll burst into tears if she did.

“K2 told me you’re leaving,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest once they were out of hearing range. “I had to find out from him, because I guess you had no intention to tell me.” She sounded reproachful and bitter, but that was just scratching the surface of what she was feeling.

“We have to,” he said, not meeting her gaze. It wasn’t an apology, it wasn’t an excuse. It was just that, a statement. He looked resolute and devoid of any emotion, and any trace of anger Cora held melted away once fear took over.

“You don’t have to.” Her heart was beating so fast it felt like bursting out of her chest. She had to use every ounce of self-control to keep her emotions in check and not let her voice show the pure desperation that dictated her every move. “There must be another option.” He didn’t reply, the stubborn look on his face not faltering even for a second. “We can pull back, think of another strategy and then regroup when the time is right,” she offered, although she knew she was talking out of her ass.

He looked tired, she noticed. He looked drained, but at the same time strung like a chord waiting to snap at the smallest impulse. She hated the Empire, she hated the Rebellion for putting so much pressure on him, and she hated herself for not being able to help.

Cassian looked at the ground for a long moment and eventually shook his head. “There won’t be another time if we don’t act now.”

Cora felt like she was trying to crush a mountain with her bare hands. “But it’s stupid! It’s suicide!” she yelled, hoping he would listen to reason.

“Stupid is all we’ve got!” he snapped, and Cora reeled back at the intensity.

“You’ll only die in vain.” Her voice was already shaky. “Trust me. I’ve been to Scarif, I know the odds.” Listen for once, she prayed. But he was defiantly looking someplace else, still avoiding her gaze. “Please, Cassian… Please!”

He wasn’t yielding. He’d made up his mind and Cora was sure that no matter what she said she wasn’t going to make him reconsider. Her heart ached when the reality sunk in: he was leaving. He was going to throw himself in a battle he’d never be able to survive, no matter how skilled of lucky he was.

She took a deep breath, “Then take me with you,” she said, resolute, and Cassian’s eyes shot up to look at her.

“Have you lost your mind?” he said, letting out a disbelieving laugh, devoid of humour.

Cora stood her ground. “I know the place. I know the archive. I can help.”

He snorted. “You’ll get killed in no time. And even worse, you’ll get others killed too.” His voice was turning to steel with every uttered word. “I don’t have time for this.”

Cora opened her mouth to protest, but Cassian cut her off.

“You’re a liability, Cora! Understand that!” he yelled, leaving her stunned. “And I can’t afford any liabilities.”

His sharp tone was like a slap in the face. She wondered if he meant her on the battlefield, of her in general; if he considered their relationship a liability. It certainly sounded like something the impenetrable, hyper focused Captain Andor would think, but she’d thought after all this time…

She forced herself to push her doubts to the back of her mind. This was not the time to feel hurt. This wasn’t about her.

“I can keep you alive,” she merely whispered.

“You can’t keep yourself alive,” he spat. “We don’t need you.”

She had no idea at what point she’d started crying, but when she lifted her hand and passed it over her face she felt her cheeks drenched in tears. She wasn’t going to give up on him, no matter how cruel he’d decided to be all of a sudden. The worst of all was that he was right and she had no way of fighting his words. He didn’t need her, he never did. She’d just hoped that at some point, he had wanted her.

“I won’t be able to face myself if I don’t do this now,” he said, and his voice sounded strangled, as if he was trying to find an excuse for the harsh words he’d uttered earlier. He lifted his eyes to look at her, but it didn’t last more than a second. “Everything I’ve done over the years will be for nothing if I don't do this now. The Rebellion will crumble. And I’m nothing if not for this.” The desperation in his voice was tangible.

Cora took a step closer and lifted her hand to touch his cheek, but he brushed her hand away. His gesture hurt even worse than his words had. “Cassian… You’re everything,” she whispered, defeated.

“I’m nothing without the Rebellion, don’t you understand?” he repeated, turning his back to her. Cora could feel her tears starting to stream down her cheeks. She took another step in his direction, this time grabbing onto the back of his shirt, clutching onto him with all her remaining strength.

“Please stay,” she said, feeling the panic rising, propping her forehead on his back. “We could grow old together,” he smiled, the shadow of a smile, trying to bite back the sobs that threatened to escape.

“There’s nothing to keep me here.”

There was no way to describe in words what she felt in that moment. She didn’t think she could hurt more, but her heart breaking was a new type of pain altogether. A numbing sort of pain.

“Nothing?” she managed to mutter, her throat feeling dry despite the wave of tears washing over her cheeks. “Nothing at all?” she asked again, her voice taking on a high pitch.

“...nothing.”

She let go of his shirt, her arms falling lifeless around her body. She didn’t have the power to stop him from walking away; her mouth opened, but no words came out. She watched him depart though the tears filling her eyes, but she still couldn’t get her body to move.

This was the end. One way or another, this was the end. Cora pressed her palm on her chest, feeling the familiar bump of the necklace he’d given her on Samarkand. She took it out, clutching it between her shaking fingers, trying her best to not break into sobs.

She prayed—to known gods and made-up ones—to keep him safe and bring him back; she promised them everything she could think of to just spare him this time. She even promised them her own life in exchange for his, but she had little hope that anyone out there was listening to her prayers.

But even if he did come back, for them this was the end.

His smell still lingered around her, long after the ship was gone.

*

“You’re an idiot,” Melshi said when Cassian walked up the ramp. He threw the sergeant a dirty look, but Melshi shrugged and entered the ship. “Just letting you know, in case you’ve forgotten.”

He made an effort not to look back, as the main hatch was closing behind him. He hoped Cora had gone inside, but something told him she was still there. He didn’t look back, in fear that if he’d see her he’d step down the ramp and run to her, leaving everything behind. Growing old together, what an enticing dream that was.

“You could’ve at least hugged her goodbye if you’re that scared of telling her you love her. Might never get another chance.”

Cassian shook his head. He couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t. “It’s done,” he said, walking to the front of the ship.

K2 was sitting in the co-pilot chair, next to Bodhi, throwing him a dirty look. It was a weird feeling not being in the pilot seat this time, but he was grateful. His hands were shaking.

“Where have you been?” he asked, frowning at the droid. He knew where he’d been, Cora had told him, he just wondered what made him run to her. He’d never been the one to snitch on Cassian before.

“None of your business,” the droid replied, switching his attention back to the controls.

“Five more minutes and we’d have left without you.”

K2 snorted. “I’ve been here for the past 14 minutes, waiting for you,” he said, flipping switches, but Cassian had already tuned him out.

The base was getting smaller as they exited the moon’s atmosphere. The place he’d gotten used to calling home was being left behind, along with the woman he loved and the smallest tinge of hope he still had for the future. The only constants in his life. These, and the terrible things he had to do in the name of freedom.

He hadn’t been truly scared in a long time. Not for himself, and if he’d have to be fair, not for others either. He’d been numb for many years, pushing everything as deep down as he could, hoping that eventually he wouldn’t feel the weight of the things he was doing. But it was slowly crushing him.

With Cora, he’d allowed himself to feel, he’d allowed himself to hope for a future where he wouldn’t have to be the person he was now. Where he could be a better man, worthy of her love.

Melshi had been right, he thought, passing a hand over his face, this could have been the last time he’d ever see her, and he didn’t even take a good look. He didn’t have to, he’d memorized her features in the countless nights he’d watched her sleep peacefully next to him.

He didn’t want to look either. He didn’t want to see the pain he’d caused her and be eaten by guilt. It was for the best, he told himself. He wished he didn’t have to be cruel on purpose, but he couldn’t face her. He couldn’t give her hope, have her fight for him when his resolve was already so thin.

He was just one smile, one embrace away from abandoning the cause he’d believed in all his life. One kiss away from quitting the fight to go live a domestic life with her. One look. That was all he needed to give up.

His love for her had made him a coward.

Cassian pushed his feelings to the back of his mind and focused on the mission.

*

Masterlist in bio

[thestrongeststars]

Mon Mothma stared down at the crib holding a baby boy in a blue blanket. Her organs swam inside of her, her lungs forgot to need air, and her breath stopped. This could be the best 'this is going to end badly decision' she's ever made. She picked up the baby boy. "Luke. Luke Mothma." _________________________ An AU where Luke is sent to live with Senator Mon Mothma after Padmè dies.

[mostthingskenobi]

CASSIAN’S RECKONING - Chapter 4: The Expendable

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Tarkin continues to toy with Cassian, allowing his Death Troopers their pound of flesh. Jyn tries to get the Alliance to help.

I feel such gratitude for the reactions I've gotten to this fic. I'm glad you're enjoying it so far 💜

This is a whumpy fic. Please heed the warnings posted on AO3 for your own well being.

READ THE FIC ON AO3

——————–

CHAPTER 4: THE EXPENDABLE

When the water struck a third time, Cassian choked on a scream as he ruthlessly startled awake. He pulled against his restraints, base instinct making him desperate to escape. The cold-shock became more intense with each exposure, causing his breathing and heart rate to spasm. When the downpour ceased, he was left bent forward over his knees, air shuddering through his lungs. He could feel his pulse in his ears and throat and eyes.

A long moment passed before he realized the lights were on and he wasn’t alone in the cell.

“Good morning, Captain.” Tarkin stood between Cassian and the cell door, his hands clasped behind his back. “Has your reality set in yet?”

Cassian looked up at the unfeeling imperial officer, his chest still heaving and his body shaking from the cold. “Am I supposed to answer that?” he finally asked with feigned innocence. “Has the interrogation started?” The room was so frigid his breath came out in visible, frosty puffs.

A predatory smile stretched across Tarkin’s thin lips. “I find your pluck amusing. Let’s put it to the test, shall we.” He nodded to his death troopers. Cassian heard a metal box snapping open on the table behind him, then two troopers came around front with shock cuffs in their hands. They locked one around each of Cassian’s forearms and biceps, then a third trooper approached with a larger one designed to go around his throat. The rebel’s eyes widened but before he could twist away, a trooper grasped him by the hair and immobilized him, allowing the cold metal to easily lock around his neck. He clenched his teeth and tried to subdue any visible signs of fear, but deep down he knew this was not good; his wet skin would magnify the binder’s effectiveness.

“We’ll start with a simple question. Why try and bluff your way onto my star destroyer?”

Cassian knew pain was inevitable. So, rather than start by verbally provoking his interrogator, he chose silence, simply matching Tarkin’s glare.

The Grand Moff understood. They had each picked their strategy and now the only thing left to do was play their parts. “Very well,” he said, turning to the death trooper squad commander. “Soften him up. I don’t have time for his arrogance. Just make sure he can still talk when I return.”

Once again, Tarkin caught Cassian off guard as the imperial officer turned and left him alone with the six death troopers. After the cell door slid shut, the squad commander took Tarkin’s place. He raised his armor-clad hand so the rebel could see the long, metal trigger button held in his fingers. “Go ahead,” he said, nodding to a trooper on Cassian’s left. The hulking figured stepped close, hauled back, and struck Andor in the face so viciously he instantly drew blood, the black gleaming gauntlets cutting the rebel’s cheek, nose, and eyebrow. Cassian collapsed to the side, sliding down in his chair. He didn’t know a man could hit so hard. But before he even had a chance to catch his breath, the squad commander pressed the trigger and sent an electrical torrent into both of his forearms. Cassian convulsed, snapping back against the chair, unable to breathe much less scream. Finally, the trooper paused the onslaught and allowed another man to come forward.

Andor slumped, gasping for air. The attacks were coming so fast and in such unpredictable ways that he had no ability to steady himself. As blood ran down his face and neck, another trooper stooped eye-to-eye. The man reached behind his back and unsheathed a vibroblade, bringing it close to Cassian’s face, placing the tip under the young man’s chin, lifting his head. “This is for Scarif,” the trooper growled.

——————–

“I assume you’re here looking for Andor.” Draven barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes.

“And I assume you’re doing nothing about the fact that he’s missing,” Jyn retorted as she and the rest of the Rogue Crew circled around the center consul in the ready room.

“He’s not missing,” Draven said, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s out of contact.”

“He’s eight hours outside the envelope.” Jyn struggled to keep her tone from devolving into anger.

“Considering the sensitivity of his mission, which I assume he told you about despite its eyes-only status, eight hours is a reasonable window of error.”

“Is that so?” Jyn said, leaning forward and pressing her knuckles onto the consul in front of her. “How long does Cassian need to be out of contact before you’ll actually take this situation seriously?”

“We take every situation seriously,” a melodic, cultured voice interrupted the discussion. Mon Mothma stepped through the door flanked by her personal aides. “I was told you wanted to speak with me.”

Draven flashed Jyn an angry look, annoyed that she went above his head.

“I want permission to take a ship and a small crew…”

Mothma lifted her hands, cutting off Jyn. “I share your concerns for Andor, but we must be careful. We need to bide our time…”

It was Jyn’s turn to interrupt. “Bide our time? How much time do you think he has if he’s been taken into custody?”

“They are likely to keep him alive.”

Jyn scoffed. “You and I both know how the Empire keeps people alive. The longer we wait, the worse things will get for Cassian.”

Mothma weighed the facts. “You’re right, of course.”

“Cassian put everything on the line for Scarif. He fought through impossible odds, nearly died, all for the Rebellion, to give the galaxy a chance, to stop what happened at Jedha from ever happening again.” She could see in Mothma’s eyes that her message was hitting home. “Now, you send him right into Tarkin’s clutches, and you just abandon him.”

“Tarkin is not supposed to be on his ship.”

“Why are you all so certain that your intel is airtight?”

“It’s a reliable source.”

“After Scarif, nothing is reliable. The Empire’s hackles are up. They’re looking for every excuse to close their fist. And you walked Cassian right into it.”

“He was the best man for the job.”

“He knew the risks,” Draven added. “He’s a good soldier.”

“I’m asking for a ship and for Rogue Crew. Let me go after him. I won’t even ask you for backup.”

“If what you say about reliability is true,” Mon Mothma said, her voice as steady as ever, “then they’ll be expecting you. In fact, they’re likely to hold Andor for an extended period aboard the Executrix in the hopes of luring a rescue party. There is practically no way for you to safely board that star destroyer.”

“I think I can help with that,” a new voice spoke up. They all turned to see General Hera Syndulla approaching.

——————–

END NOTES

NEXT CHAPTER IS CALLED “THE TRUTH" - We start to see Tarkin's real motivations while Cassian struggles to hold his own. Jyn and Hera develop a plan.

Thank you for reading!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are very welcome!

Much love!

——————–

READ IT ON AO3 - Kudos and Comments Welcome :-)

READ CHAPTER 1 “The Razor”

READ CHAPTER 2 “The Scythe”

READ CHAPTER 3 “The Cold”

READ CHAPTER 4 “The Expendable”

READ CHAPTER 5 “The Truth”

READ CHAPTER 6 "The Detritus"

READ CHAPTER 7 “The Salt”

READ CHAPTER 8 “The Power”

READ CHAPTER 9 “The Betrayal”

READ CHAPTER 10 “The Ruse”

READ CHAPTER 11 "The Reprieve"

READ CHAPTER 12 “The Ghosts”

READ CHAPTER 13 “The Redemption”

READ CHAPTER 14 “The Spoils”

READ CHAPTER 15 “The Interrogation”

READ CHAPTER 16 "The Rogues"

READ CHAPTER 17 “The Absolution”

READ CHAPTER 18 “The Reach”

READ CHAPTER 19 "The Hologram"

READ CHAPTER 20 “The Divide”

READ CHAPTER 21 “The Cost”

READ CHAPTER 22 “The Fallout”

READ CHAPTER 23 “The Wounds”

READ CHAPTER 24 "The Hand"

READ CHAPTER 25 “The Heart”

READ CHAPTER 26 “The Beginning”

[sassysnowperson]

Davits Draven and/or Merrick for the character thing?

My guys! Let's go with And. See if I can do a two at once sort of a thing

Draven general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life

Merrick general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life

Draven hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang

Merrick hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang

(Cue my continuing grump over my very very dull sense of aesthetic attraction. But! Merrick's roguish grin and bright blue eyes shining in the sun through his X-Wing's cockpit is enough to be compelling for me! Hooray an actual answer)

(this smile - and also because I hear a lot of people say “look I get that you like Merrick but I have NO IDEA who you are talking about) (this guy! He’s who I’m talking about!) 

Draven hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

(I went back and forth between slytherin and ravenclaw, but ultimately, the way I write Draven, he’s more by cold information and analysis than ambition) 

Merrick hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

(Merrick, on the other hand, was pretty easy) 

best quality: Draven's best quality is that he'll get the job done, work the problem until it's solved. Merrick's best quality is that he cares about *how* the job is done, and works to create a good environment and a good team - the best sort of extrovert to be around.

worst quality: Draven's worst quality is that he forgets (or sidelines) the ethics of a thing while working the problem. Also he is...not good at people. Merrick's is that he'll forget the goal in favor of the individual. I also personally headcanon Merrick as carrying more guilt than is really healthy in a war.

ship them with: Each otherrrr! (give me a battle couple with different ideologies and priorities working for the same overall goal it's such a good dynamic) (and there are a few people out there who are making a good case for adding Mon Mothma to the mix and I….could be convinced)  

brotp them with: Draven, nobody, except maybe also Merrick. His isolation is a part of the sell, for me. Merrick, everybody, but especially other pilots and especially especially Dreis (Red Leader in A New Hope, from the same planet as Merrick, they were fighter buddies together and joined the Rebellion together).

needs to stay away from: Merrick - turbolaser bolts. Draven - Darth Vader. sorry

misc. Thoughts: Look I *know* that they were collectively on the screen for all of like...fifteen minutes throughout the entire trilogy. But there's still something incredibly compelling about this dynamic to me. Opposite personalities, same goal, different histories but working together for a long, long time. There's a lot of ground to explore. And what is fanfic for, if not cheerfully filling in the gaps that canon has left me to play with. And, as needed, disregarding canon entirely (of COURSE they both retire happily what are you talking about) 

[chamerionwrites]

Hi, i don't know if you're doing requests for anatomycanons or not but if you are, could you please do Mon Mothma and/or Draven x Merrick (idk if anatomycanons work for couples or not). Thanks and I wanted to say that you're an awesome person!!

Aww thanks anon. I already blabbered about Draven last night while overtired so I’m going with Mon Mothma.

Headcanon: She spends the better part of her life as a symbol - first the historically young senator, then the principled opposition, then the head of the Rebel Alliance (always Senator Mothma, never Commander, she insists on that) - and cultivates it, and uses it, and even enjoys it. It’s not until quite late in life that she starts to find this constraining, and by then she doesn’t really know how to change it, so she values people who know her well very highly. Bail and Breha’s deaths are devastating. 

Heartcanon: Padmé and Mon weren’t just political allies, they were very good friends: smart, serious, high-achieving, terribly young women whose relationship was based on doing normal young-woman things - watching smashball games in their pajamas (albeit with policy papers spread out on the coffee table), giggling about men - that neither of them actually got to do very much of when they were teenagers, AND on having very wide-ranging and in-depth discussions about ideals and galactic politics. 

Gutcanon: She has a well-hidden devilish streak and while her poise and patience and political idealism are definitely a real part of who she is, she isn’t above calculation or snide humor either. (Mon definitely falls under planned it, said it, meant it on this list. What’s more, there’s a good chance that it is a very stealth insult delivered with a smile, and the recipient only realizes an hour later how thoroughly and mercilessly they’ve just been burned to the ground.)

Junkcanon: She knows exactly what she wants in bed and how to ask for it. She’s less good at knowing what she wants out of relationships. 

Spleencanon: To a certain extent all of my Mon Mothma headcanons are spleencanons, in that I think Star Wars often (not always, but often; the newer media is better about it) tends to run into the dehumanization-via-idealization problem with its female characters, and Mon comes in for a double dose of this because political leaders on the side of Right And Good often get the same treatment (one of the things I liked about Rogue One was that it gave us infighting). I just want her to be wrong sometimes, and flawed, and admirable without being the Embodied Image of Democracy. 

[Ask me for headcanons about my faves!]

[melyzard]

Star Wars Creator tag game

Thanks to @spacepandar (who has a list of fantastic rebelcaptain artwork here), @crazy-fruit and @brynnmclean for the tag! 

You’ve been tagged in the Star Wars Creator meme! Pick 1 - 10 works you’ve created (fic, art, gifsets, aesthetics, videos, playlists, etc) & tell us why you’re proud of them! Then tag your friends!

So in no particular order, 10 of my works that I’m proud of:

1. you give me something

“Stranger?” His mouth curved up into that damn half-smile, the one that ignited her nerves and made something go tight in her chest. “Is that what you’ve been calling me?”

Only at first, she thought but still retained enough sense not to say out loud. Instead she shook a lock of hair out of her eyes and said, “Why not? What have you been calling me?”

He ran a hand up her back, dragging his fingertips along the curve of her spine before cupping his palm around the back of her neck. He leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to her neck, and Jyn shivered slightly at the touch. “Stay long enough,” he murmured against the hollow of her throat, “and you might find out.”

[@crazy-fruit, has a lovely list of their excellent fanworks here.]

2. your words are mine to keep 

Erso [2004]: looks like its real gin. antilles has hooch too. knew they were brewing it in the barracks

Andor [2005]: Be careful with that stuff, it strips paint from X wings.

Erso [2006]: chewie set up a holo of some [PROFANITY FILTER] imp officer and everyone’s trying to hit it with food

Erso [2006]: smells like pickles in here. good hooch tho

Andor [2007]: Sounds like it’s shaping up to be a party.

Erso [2008]: not until someone starts stripping

Andor [2009]: Should I be concerned?

Erso [2010]: no

Andor [2011]: [unsent] I didn’t mean to insult

Andor [2012]: Pity.

Erso [2014]: [PROFANITY FILTER]?

[@ladytharen‘s top 10 fave list (many of which are also my faves) here]

3. between your bones and your soul

“You…don’t have to do this,” he says at last, slowly, like he’s feeling his way through an unknown space. “If you think you…owe me this, because of Scarif,” he shakes his head. “You don’t, Jyn.”

Of course he thinks she’s here out of guilt. He’d been there when Mon Mothma and Draven came to hear her account in the medbay.  He heard her snarl whenever someone mentioned the casualties. He saw her flinch every time the doctors discussed the extensive surgeries and recovery time he would need.

But Jyn’s not a masochist, she’s not here to punish herself. “I’m tired of seeing you in pain,” she tells him, honest, defiant.

An odd expression flickers across his face then, gone before she can read it, but the hard lines of his blank mask soften a little, and he looks a little less like Captain Andor of Rebel Intelligence and much more like Cassian. “Ah,” he murmurs, and then he takes a deep breath and ducks his head. Carefully, he brings his hands together and hangs them between his knees, gaze fixed on the floor.

“What should I…what do you need me to do?”

[@brynnmclean‘s list of incredible works (many of which are NSFW in the best way) is here]

4. A Love Song 

“This isn’t my life,” Cassian says abruptly, his voice low but still loud in the soft silence. His eyes stay on her hands, like he doesn’t dare look away, or look up at her.

Jyn studies their linked hands, and then nods slowly. “I’ve stolen it,” she agrees in the same hushed tone of a confession, or a promise.

Now he does look up, and Jyn lifts her own gaze to meet him. His dark eyes should have been hard to read in the dim light of the room, but Jyn knows the shape of his shadows almost as well she knows her own. There’s an old, familiar fear in his eyes, and a terrible rage, a little longing and an endless exhaustion, and - when he looks at her the way he did out in the kitchen, the way he’s looking now - a faint spark of hope.

[tagging @imsfire2, who has not done this tag game but has written a published work!]

5. the heart is hard to translate

Cassian closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath. For a second, Jyn thought maybe she had pushed it too far, crossed some line.

Then he looked down at her, a dangerous glitter in his dark eyes, and spit a stream of swift, smooth words in his native tongue far too quickly for her to catch. She managed to pick out at least two different words for “fuck” and a reference to someone’s mother, and a phrase that she was almost sure meant “your beautiful filthy mouth,” but the rest rolled by too fast for her to hope to understand. When he finally stopped, she waited a moment to see if he would start up again, mildly disappointed when he didn’t. The flush had spread all the way down his throat and disappeared into his collar, hard to see in the cheap lights of the ship, but definitely there. Whatever he just said, Jyn thought a little dazedly, must have been kriffing obscene.

She raised a finger and pointed it at him. “You have got to translate that for me.”

Cassian glared at her, then faster than she could follow, he buried his hand into her hair, said, “No,” in a flat voice, and crushed his beautiful filthy mouth against hers.

[tagging @sleepykalena, who is currently working on an awesome Rogue One/Solo Quiero Caminar fusion fic here]

6. we live in cities (you’ll never see on screen)

She stalks over to the table full of Temolaks, and stops in between them and Cassian. She takes a long, theatrical pull from her beer (if Bodhi gets to be obnoxious and dramatic, so does she) and then makes a face, banging the bottle down on the Temolaks’ table. “This beer tastes like rat piss,” she announces with a gleeful slur. She pretends to spot one of the Temolaks’ bright blue drinks and before any of them can react, she snags it neatly. “Hey, trade me yours.”

She throws the noxious drink down her throat like a pro (it’s probably not poisonous to human physiology) and grins when the Temolak makes a growl of protest and jumps to his feet. He’s huge, towering over her by a solid fifteen centimeters, and out of the corner of her eye she sees Cassian’s shoulders go rigid.

Jyn grins with all her teeth. “Well, now, aren’t you a big lad.” Like Bodhi, she lets her accent turn thicker and heavier, blurring into a low-class version of her normal Core-world inflection. She tilts her head back to get a good view of her new challenge and deliberately relaxes her stance. “Shite, son! Did someone kark your face up, then,” Jyn lifts the half-empty glass in a lazy salute, “or did your mum just fuck a Hutt?”

[tagging @thenewleeland, whose historically-inspired R1 AUs are rivaled only by their sports-inspired AUs]

7. the waiting’s been so long (so long)

“It’s been a long time since anyone asked for honesty from me,” he confesses softly, marveling at how easy it is to tell her that.

Jyn raises an eyebrow, looking part pleased and part bewildered. It’s a fascinating mix, and Cassian takes the opportunity to just look at her for awhile as she works that out in her head. “You know,” he says after a moment, “if it’s honesty you want, then I should tell you that you’re very beautiful.”

I should have gone back to bed, he chides himself. I am far too tired to have her this close.

“Oh,” she says faintly. And then, almost as if she’s speaking to herself, “okay then.”

The hair on the back of Cassian’s neck is suddenly standing on end, a warning singing through his veins. “Jyn?”

“Cassian,” Jyn steps forward a little more, until she’s almost touching him. Cassian fights the urge to fidget under her gaze, fights the urge to step away.  Jyn’s eyes study his face like she’s memorizing him, like she expects there will be a test. “Cassian,” she says again like she’s only just learned his name and is practicing the pronunciation. Blurrily, he wonders if perhaps he did go back to bed and this is just another dream. “I’d really like to have sex with you,” Jyn says at last. “Do you want that?”

[tagging @ohstardustgirl​, and if you’re in the mood for some intense and emotional rebelcaptain sex fic, check out her most recent work]

8. a little rebellion (now and then)

“That which threatens my people is my enemy.” Saw raises his eyes from the Barebel to Jyn, and then he says softly, but with no room for compromise, “I will suffer no enemy to live.”

He says nothing else, but Jyn is a good soldier and she hears the order. Kill him.

This is why she stands at his side.

Jyn’s hand is steady on the man’s throat, her weight on her toes, her mind clear of distractions. She raises her chin slowly, looks her commander square in the eye –

- and does not move.

[tagging @mosylufanfic, who has written a plethora of excellent fic, my current favorite of which is here]

9. A Thousand Times Between Our Eyes

“Ready when you are,” he whispered, his mouth shaping the words just along the edge of her cheekbone, his breath ghosting through the loose strands of hair around her face. Jyn couldn’t catch the violent shiver that ran through her body at the touch, and she thought she felt him smile before he shifted away again.

Right, she thought hazily. Right. We’ll deal with that…later. Idiot smuggler first, idiot hormones second.

[tagging @youareiron-andyouarestrong, who has the best ideas.]

10. the universe inside you

The Tholothian sets out yet another palm-sized spherical light patterned in green and orange, and Jyn smirks as she realizes that the lamps are actually the vendor’s wares. The vendor has even woven a string of tiny colored lights through her many pale brown lekku, which reflect in her dark brown skin. Spy boy has managed to park them both right next to what is about to be the most well-lit spot in the square. So much for sticking to the shadows.

The vendor places out another lamp, one that shifts slowly from red to orange to yellow to white and then back through the spectrum again, making the little flame mosaics on the side glitter like real fire. Jyn glances from the stall to the spy, but his eyes are firmly on the Temple, perhaps hunting for his contact, perhaps looking for an alternate way in, perhaps stubbornly hoping the ‘troopers will move on despite all appearances. He looks content to wait there all night. Well, easy for a man wearing a parka thicker than a Wookie’s fur, but the chill is starting to creep into the worn jacket that Jyn scrounged at the last minute from the Alliance quartermaster. She shifts her weight impatiently while he stands as still as the shadows themselves. But despite his glare, the contact never appears in the open doorway, the Temple remains an impenetrable hulk of stone, and the ‘troopers stay right where they are.

The vendor places out another lamp, green with little pink and red flowers patterned around the edges. Jyn leaves the spy to brood along the wall and shuffles cautiously a little closer.

[tagging @kyberchronicles, who likes world-building too and has written a series of lovely short fic for rebelcaptain, the most recent of which is this exceptional piece]

As always, thank you for the tag, and there is no pressure to respond. Happy Tuesday.

[cuppatea13]

You wanna cry? Because this’ll make you cry.

Rouge One survives Scariff, but they don’t survive the war. Mon Mothma and Leia try their best to cope with that.

[wearesuchstuff1]

Lullaby

Read on AO3

I can’t say thank you enough to the amazing @rxbxlcaptain who edited this for me.  Her work is wonderful and she’s the sweetest person ever, so go check her out!

The distress call finished its transmission just as the doors to their ship were forced open with a burst of sparks.  Jyn brought down three Stormtroopers before they could even finish getting the doors open, but in a moment the small cabin was flooded with ‘troopers and Cassian held up his had to Jyn.  His face was still and serious but Jyn could see the fear behind his eyes.  They had remained locked with hers as they both slowly lowered their weapons to the ground.

 “Keep moving,” a ‘trooper snaps at Jyn as she stumbles over the grated floor.  Next to her Cassian’s eyes flick to her face, his hands chained, like hers, in front of him, as they continue their march towards the base’s detention center.

 The Imperial ship locked onto them just as they were leaving Nakadia.  The mission had been compromised when one of Cassian’s contacts turned them in.  While the two of them managed to blast their way out of the city their ship had been captured and boarded before they could do anything but send one last encoded message to the Rebellion, warning of their immanent capture.  

 The Imperial base they have been brought to is relatively small – likely an outpost on one of Nakadia’s moons, the nearest permanent Imperial presence in the system – and the detention center, therefore, is much smaller than other prisons Jyn has had experience with.  Their escorts are kind enough to free their hands before Cassian and Jyn are unceremoniously tossed into a cell.  The door is shut behind them with a clang of metal hitting metal and then they are alone.

 Jyn doesn’t actually believe banging on the door and yelling to be let out would really work.  But she does it anyway, throwing her frustration and fear – as well as her fists – at the metal along with as many curse words as she can think of in as many languages as she knows.  Swear words had been the first Festian phrases she had picked up from Cassian, followed closely by her favorite term – mi amor - and she is sure Princess Leia would be proud when the term ‘nurf-herder’ crosses her lips.  Only after her hands are bruised and her voice is hoarse does she turn back to Cassian.

 He sits quietly on the single built in bench – the only distinction in the small, blank room – his head bowed, his hands resting in his lap.  Kneeling in front of him Jyn can see that his eyes are far away, staring seemingly at nothing, but from the way his hands – still covered in dried blood – shake Jyn knows what he is seeing.

 They had been inside a contacts house when the Empire caught up with them.  The woman – Addah - had been passing information to the Alliance for a few years, and while Cassian had met with her several times before, it was Jyn’s first time on Nakadia.  When Jyn asked Addah why she chose to help the Rebellion she had smiled proudly and told them of her eight year old son who lived with his father but who, she said, would live in the better world his mother helped to create.  When the Stormtroopers came and turned their blasters on her Cassian held Addah as she died.  The ‘troopers had ripped him away from her before her dying pleas to see her son one last time were cold on her lips.      

 Jyn slips her hands into his, squeezing them gently to bring his eyes back to hers.  They focus on her face after a moment and Jyn is sure he can read the pain and sorrow in her eyes.  She hadn’t known the woman, but Cassian had, and even in their few minutes together Jyn had seen her kindness and strength.  

 “I’m sorry, Cassian,” Jyn whispers, the inadequacy of her words stinging her.  And yet what more could she say?

 When he speaks, Cassian’s voice is devoid of feeling.  “She trusted me.”  She trusted me and I let her down.

 “This wasn’t your fault, Cassian.  You couldn’t have known.  No one could have.  You can’t blame yourself.”  He can and Jyn knows he will, but the pain in his eyes is hers just as much as it is his.  Jyn wishes she could kill every person who had ever caused such pain to appear in Cassian’s beautiful eyes.

 She leans up and presses a kiss to his scratchy cheek, then slides onto the bench next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.  His shirt is covered in blood but knowing it’s not his stops her from franticly searching him for injuries.  As it is all she can do is rub small circles into his back and murmur the occasional comforting word.   

 They sit for a while in the quiet of the cell, drawing comfort from each other’s presence.  Finally Cassian pulls in a breath and Jyn looks up at him.

 “They’re going to search us,” he whispers, his focus flicks back to his long fingers intertwined with hers.  Jyn knows where his thoughts have gone and hers stray there, too, to the small blue pill sewing into the lining of their sleeves, promising a painless death in five seconds.  He is telling her this might be their last chance to take them.  She knows had she not been there with him, he would have taken his already.

 “We’re going to get out, with or without the Alliance’s help,” she tells him, more confidence in her voice than in her heart.  “We’ll make it, Cassian.  You and I.  Together.”  They hadn’t taken the lullaby pills when their ship had been caught in the tractor beam, they hadn’t taken them when the Stormtroopers broke through their blast doors, and they weren’t going to take them now.  

 Jyn knew she would die someday, but she hadn’t survived Jedha and Scarif and the innumerable life threatening missions since just to take a pill at the first sight of the Empire.  “We’re going to keep fighting, Cassian.  For the Alliance and for Addah.”  And for you.

 Cassian’s fingers tighten around hers.  “You and I.  Together,” he repeats, his accent coloring her words.  He captures her cheek in his hand and kisses her.  She can taste his sorrow and his hope on his lips.

They would have done more, would have said more.  Would have planned their escape together if they had been given the time.  But as they break apart the door slides open and then there are blasters in their faces and firm commands that squeeze Jyn’s heart.

 “Take him.  Leave the girl.”

 ****

Jyn isn’t sure who is being tortured, her or Cassian.  Sometimes in the silence between her heartbeats she thinks she can hear his screams.  She tells herself they are in her mind, her brain conjuring the sounds of Cassian’s pain.  But then she remembers how small the station is, how few cells they passed on their way in, and she wonders if the sounds really are just in her head.  And she wonders which would be worse.

 She paces the small space until she makes herself dizzy, then pounds on the door again, and finally she sits on the bench, eyes closed, knee bouncing so fast she doubts she could count the pulses.  

 Time ticks by without Jyn knowing – having no way to tell how much time has passed she can only assume that what to her is prolonged, painful hours are actually only minutes in reality – and Jyn waits.  She waits and tries not to think, about Cassian or about what they are doing to him or, most of all, about if she will even see him again before they come for her.  And yet how can she not think?

 She fingers her cuff, finding the hard bump of the lullaby pill.  She knows she won’t take it.  She had told Cassian they wouldn’t and he had agreed.  She would wait for him, knowing that no matter what pain she is going through Cassian’s must be much worse.  So much worse.  A part of her wants to take the pill out and grind it under the heel of her boot, a show of defiance against the Empire’s power and the Alliance’s fear.  Jyn had survived much worse than this.  But she leaves the pill concealed in her cuff, the memories of Wobani and the knowledge that had she had a way out then – no matter how desperate – she would have taken it, weighing on her.  She pushes the thoughts to the back of her mind.  She’s not alone, she reminds herself.  This time she has Cassian.

 Finally the door slides open and two guards enter, dragging Cassian between them.  He is limp, eyes closed, and the moment they throw him to the floor Jyn is there, cradling his head in her lap.  She doesn’t even hear the guards leave.

 “Cassian!”  Her voice breaks and she forces herself not to give in to the hot, wet tears threatening to spill onto her cheeks.  Cassian’s beautifully dark eyes remain closed and Jyn’s breath chokes in her throat.

 She shakes him slightly; panic fluttering like a wounded bird in her chest.  “Cassian, please, wake up,” she begs.  Jyn has no idea what they did to him, but her mind is quick to supply her with images.  She does her best to push them away but the terror bubbles up inside her.  Cassian’s heartbeat is weak under her fingers.  “You – you have to stay with me.  You can’t leave me alone here.”  

 The weight of her fear presses her down and she lays her head on Cassian’s chest.  Her shoulders shake with suppressed sobs.  She never thought she would have so long with Cassian.  She thought they would die on Scarif.  They had been together and they had succeeded in transmitting the plans.  That would have been enough for her and she would have held Cassian until they died on that beach.  But they hadn’t.  Somehow they had gotten out and they had kept living, despite the pain and danger and nightmares.  They had been given the time to grow and change and they had discovered a love for each other amidst the uncertainty and fear of war.  They would die someday, but somewhere between the sickening tremors that rack through Jyn’s body Jyn realizes that she is not – and maybe never again will be – ready for that day.  Not if they don’t go together.  Not if they aren’t at peace.    

 “Please, don’t leave me.”

 A hand tangles itself into Jyn’s hair and she gasps, pulling away with a shock and looking down at Cassian.  His face is pale and it makes his eyes – his open eyes – look even darker.  Jyn doesn’t even know if she could put a name to the sound that escapes her, laughter and tears, terror and pure joy mixing together in her throat.     

 “Jyn…” His voice is weak and his hand shakes – although not as much as hers, Jyn notes distantly – when he reaches for her.  

 She grips his hand gently.  “I’m here, Cassian.  It’s alright now.”  She had always been a good liar, but she doubts anyone could sell that line.  Nevertheless Cassian seems to take comfort from her touch and his body relaxes against her.  

 Quickly Jyn checks him over for external wounds.  She doesn’t find any – nor was she expecting to.  The Empire is rarely that sloppy, preferring instead to inflict invisible pain – especially when valuable intel might be on the line.

 As if he can hear her thoughts Cassian’s hand in hers tightens.  “I didn’t tell them anything, Jyn.”  Jyn shakes her head, tears blurring her vision.

 “I know.  Of course you didn’t, Cassian.”

 He reaches up to her cheek, brushing his fingers against her skin.  “It’s ok, Jyn.  We’re going to get out.  I’m not going to leave you alone.  I promise.”

 Jyn nods, stroking the hair from Cassian’s forehead and not trusting herself to speak.  They sit together in silence, offering each other what little comfort they have to give.  Time – as it had for Jyn before – morphs, but this time she measures it in comforting touches instead of frantic heartbeats.  

 Cassian sleeps for a while and seems to regain some of his strength.  Jyn can feel her muscles stiffening, but Cassian is warm and alive under her hand so she closes her eyes and measures her breaths, focusing her mind on plans for escape, and not on what will happen the next time their door opens.

 But of course the door does open.  

 The blasters and uniforms are the same – always the same – but this time the Stormtroopers have come for Jyn.  

 Both she and Cassian are on their feet the moment the door hisses as the locks release and Jyn’s jaw is set when they reach for her.

 “No!”  Cassian is almost as pale as the ‘troopers own armor, but that doesn’t stop him from launching himself at them.  

 Jyn knows it’s not an escape attempt.  It’s not even a thought out plan.  It’s simply Cassian – who so rarely gives in to his emotions, whose purpose in the Rebellion is to push away his feelings and do what needs to be done, who had watched Jyn for months with shrouded eyes before finally giving in and kissing her – being driven purely by anger and overwhelming fear - the same fear that Jyn had felt when they took him from her.  The only difference is that Cassian knows what they will do to her.  Jyn could only guess.

 Jyn sees the blaster a moment before Cassian, but the first Stormtrooper has already grabbed her and all she can do is call out.  “Cassian, don’t!”  

 The butt of the ‘trooper’s blaster slams into Cassian’s head.  Jyn remembers the sickening sound from her months on Wobani.  It equates itself with screaming inmates, ill-conceived escape attempts, and solitary confinement.  For a moment the sound alone threatens to send Jyn into a panic.  

 Cassian stumbles but manages, somehow, to stay on his feet.  It doesn’t matter, though, because in the brief moment of confusion and ringing ears the Stormtrooper’s hand is around Cassian’s throat and the ‘trooper hurls him to the floor.

 Jyn screams, kicks, and bucks wildly against the ‘trooper who is now restraining her with both arms around her slight waist.  She fights and shouts and claws, every fiber of her reverberating with the need to get to Cassian.

 His eyes meet hers from across the cell, a thousand unsaid words – each overshadowed by a terror that chokes Jyn faster than any hand ever could – in his wide-eyed, unwavering look before the blaster connects with his head once again.  

 Jyn is carried, shrieking, out of the unit.  Her boots hardly touch the ground once, and the last image of Cassian’s unresponsive body lying on the floor imprints itself on her mind.

 She doesn’t stop fighting until a ‘trooper tosses her into an interrogation room in front of five more Stormtroopers.  With each blaster trained on her, Jyn’s self preservation instincts – once so honed as she struggled to survive after Saw abandoned her to a life of running and hiding – finally kick in.  She stills but stares the ‘troopers down, her gaze burning more than any blaster shot ever could.  

 “Prep her,” one of the soldier’s orders and two more approach her.  At blaster-point Jyn is stripped of her outer clothing.  Her jacket, scarf, and shirt are quickly removed, leaving her shivering in just a tank top.  

 “Dispose of these.”  Her clothes are tossed to another ‘trooper and Jyn shudders, knowing what comes next.  She sets her jaw and for a moment allows herself the pleasure of imagining how she would kill each of these Stormtroopers if she had the chance.  

 A blaster is at her back and she is ready to be led away when a command rings out.

 “Stop.”

 The Commander steps towards her and Jyn flinches back when he reaches out and grasps the string around her neck, drawing Jyn’s Kyber crystal up from where it had rested safely between her breasts.  For a moment Jyn cannot breathe – the ‘trooper holds her mother, her father, and all that Jyn had once been in his hand – then a sharp tug breaks both the cord and Jyn.  She screams as the Stormtrooper turns away with her necklace in hand and only the strong hands of the guards on either side of her dragging her away keep Jyn from attacking him.

 Somewhere in her mind Jyn knows that kicking and screaming will do her no good.  The torture has only just begun.     

 *****

 Mind numbing, all consuming pain is Cassian’s first awareness.  His head throbs, the agony spiking through his skull slightly worse than the pain radiating through the rest of his body.  Before his mind can even begin to focus his training kicks in, assessing the extent of his injuries.  Definite concussion from the blaster.  The rest of his discomfort originated with the torture Cassian had received.  No external wounds, only internal suffering.  The IT-O droid had done its work well.  The electric shocks, followed by chemical injections, had kept Cassian screaming, convulsing under the restraints, on the brink of unconsciousness.  But every time darkness promised to release Cassian into the mercy of oblivion, the droid had brought him back, each time with a fresh form of torment.  He had no way of knowing how long his torture had lasted, but he knew he hadn’t given up any information.  When the droid finally allowed him to pass out his last thoughts had been for Jyn.  

 Jyn.

 Cassian doesn’t know how long he has been unconscious, but the blood at his temple has already dried, so it must have been at least a half hour.  He knows exactly what they could have been doing to her in that time, the pain screaming through him with each breath he takes a testament to the efficiency of the IT-O torture droids.  He needs to find a way to get to her, a way to help her, his every instinct shrieking to do everything in his power to shield her from torture the Empire had in store.  But it is already too late.  He tried to stop them and they had taken her anyway.  He trembles at the thought of Jyn, strapped to a table, a droid causing her own blood to turn to acid in her veins as she screams in helpless anguish.  He knows that when he sleeps - if he ever sleeps again - it will be her pain that worms its way into his nightmares, not his own.          

 He realizes suddenly that the sound of the cell door opening must be  what brought him back to consciousness, but when he raises his head he sees that a lone ‘trooper has entered his cell, not a pair escorting Jyn back to him as he momentarily hoped.  Cassian pushes himself to his feet, his head swimming at the movement.  

 “The Commander wanted you to know,” the Stormtrooper tells him, his voice modulator making even the next words sound flat, though they scream through Cassian’s ears and seem to rip all hope, all life, out of the galaxy.  “The girl is dead.  The rest of your rebel friends will be soon.”

 There is a small clink as the ‘trooper tosses something at Cassian - he doesn’t catch it, his brain having slowed to a painful crawl - then turns and leaves.  Cassian hardly hears the door close.

 She can’t be dead, Cassian tells himself.  He would know.  Somehow the Force - or whatever it was that connected him to Jyn - would tell him.  

 But Cassian had never been Force-sensitive.  He had watched Chirrut and Luke and respected their powers, their belief, but he had never shared them.  He had believed in Rebellions and blasters and with those came capture and death.  He had always known this, and he had accepted it - but that was before he had found other things to believe in.  Family and home and Jyn.  And as his eyes land on the small crystal - the same crystal he knows belongs around Jyn’s neck - lying on the hard cell floor, Cassian is certain, Force be damned, that he is more alone now that he has ever been before.  

 The Kyber shakes in his hands as he lifts it from the ground.  He wishes he could say that he felt some spark of life, some connection to Jyn through it.  But it is cold and dead, just as any rock would feel and just, he fears, as Jyn is now.  All Cassian can do is clutch the crystal to his chest and gasp for the air stolen from his lungs by the ‘trooper’s words.

 Time seems to vaish entirely, both inside and outside the cell.  Cassian blocks out everything, the noises from beyond the door seeming to simply say over and over; You are here.  You are lost.  You are alone.

 The crystal bites into Cassian’s palm, the pain bringing some semblance of clarity to his mind.  Enough, at least, to focus on a single truth and the single action left open to him.  Jyn is gone.  But he has a way to follow her.

 His movements are slow and deliberate and his fingers do not shake as he places Jyn’s necklace over his own neck.  A temporary weight, he reminds himself.  He will return it to her soon enough.

 The stitching in his cuff rips out with little effort.  The pill is meant to be reached when wearing handcuffs.  This escape must always be an option.    

 Noises continue to come from outside the cell door, but what does Cassian care?  He will be dead when they come for him again.  The lullaby pill sits, aqua blue, in his palm.  His other hand reaches up to grasp the necklace again, just as he had so often when it sat in its place around Jyn’s neck.

 A memory swims to the surface of Cassian’s grief-muddled mind.  He was thirteen when he was sent on his first solo mission.  They had needed someone young, someone inconspicuous.  Someone who could blend into the background and who no one would remember after he had gone.  Cassian had been begging to be sent on a mission alone, so when Dravin had summoned him and debriefed him - with Mon Mothma nodding along behind him - Cassian had clasped his hands behind his back, just as he had seen Dravin himself do, and straightened his shoulders with pride.

 After the meeting Dravin had steered Cassian down a quiet hallway.  It was one Cassian knew well.  The names of fallen Alliance heroes watched them as they walked together past the lists of old Jedi Knights, tributes to fallen pilots, and past his own parents’ names.  They stopped at the memorial for those who had taken their own life rather than be captured and risk exposing Rebel intelligence.  Draven turned to face him.

 “You know what this is, Cassian?” he asked, holding up a small aqua blue pull.    

 “It’s the lullaby, isn’t it, sir?”

 “That’s right, Andor.  If you are captured, on this or any mission, this pill is your way out.  It is your best, and only escape.  You take it, and you thank the Force for it.  Do you understand, boy?”

 Cassian had lifted his chin and with a proud “Yes, sir,” had accepted the pill from Dravin.  He had stitched the pill into his cuff - the opportunity to avenge his parents and gather intelligence for the Alliance singing in his young blood- never once considering that he would one day need the sleep the lullaby offered.  

 He had been young and foolish and so full of hope.    

 They will be considered heroes by the Rebellion, giving their lives for the cause.  Their names would be etched into a wall on a base and perhaps someday another thirteen year old would learn their names with envy and respect in their naive heart.  But Cassian won’t do it for the Alliance.  Or for the boy who had thought the Alliance would bring him happiness and peace.  He will do it for Jyn.

 There is another sound from outside and with a sudden hiss Cassian’s cell door opens.  For a moment he and the Stormtrooper seem caught, staring at each other across the small room.  Then, although he can’t see the ‘trooper’s eyes, Cassian can feel his attention flick down to the pill in his hand.

 If time had seemed to slow for Cassian since news of Jyn’s death it now does the opposite, shooting into overdrive faster that Cassian’s mind can comprehend.  He is dimly aware of a shout - “Cassian, no!” - before the ‘trooper lunges at him.

 In some other world Cassian would have tried to kill the Stormtrooper.  He would have avenged Jyn’s death and escaped, making it back to the Rebellion and continuing the fight that had, for however brief a time, offered the woman he loved a home.  But this is not that universe and Cassian - with the pain of Jyn’s death ripping its way through his chest -  is not that strong.  All he can think of, all he can try and hope to do, is take the pill before he is forced to face one more moment without Jyn.                    

 Before the pill can pass his lips, however, the Stormtrooper is on top of him.  Their combined weight knocks them both to the ground and the struggle that ensues is mayhem.  Somewhere in his mind Cassian registers that it is strange that this Stormtrooper is shouting his name, but in a moment the lullaby pill, Cassian’s only hope, slips from his grasp and all remaining coherent thought is gone.  

 Cassian has always been restrained, always in control - it is what he knows and what has made him into the officer he is- but the blind and frantic fight that follows is as wild and uncontrolled as it brief.  After a moment of flying limbs and fists the ‘trooper has him pinned, Cassian trapped under him, at least long enough for the Stormtrooper to pull of the helmet and for a pair of wide green eyes to meet his.

 Cassian thinks, for a moment, that if there were ever a sea so beautifully green as her two eyes he would find it and happily forget how to swim if it meant being enveloped by that green forever.  If there is any sort of reward at the end of all of these struggles he would like to think that this would be it.  Maybe he had succeeded in taking the lullaby pill after all and seeing Jyn’s face hovering above him is his five seconds of bliss before the end.

 But, he thinks, if that were the case, Jyn wouldn’t be wearing Stormtrooper armor, breathing hard, and she wouldn’t be shaking him.

 “Cassian, come on!  We have to go!”

 His hands find her cheeks and for just a moment she stills under his touch.  She is real and warm beneath his fingers and Cassian is sure that there has never been a more beautiful sight on any planet at any point in time.  

 “Jyn.”  His voice is soft and the serenity captures them, together, for one perfect instant.

 Then the world explodes.

 Jyn covers Cassian’s body with her own, the blast ending as suddenly as it started.  Debris falls around them and smoke and yelling filter in from the hallway, then Baze’s perpetually gruff face appears from around the corner.

 “Come on, little sister!  Time to go!”

 Jyn pushes herself off Cassian with a groan, grabbing his hand and hauling him to his feet behind her.  His head pounds and his legs feel as though they aren’t quite part of his anatomy anymore, but Jyn takes his weight and pulls him into the corridor where Commander Solo, Chirrut, Baze, and K2 wait, Stormtroopers littering the ground along with the rest of the wreckage left from the grenade.  K’s right shoulder is smoking slightly and Chirrut leans a bit more heavily than usual on his staff, but otherwise they seem unharmed.  

 “Come on, kid,” Solo calls to Jyn, “we don’t have much time.  Chewie can only keep the Falcon hidden for so long.”  Han Solo has never been Cassian’s favorite person, but he is grateful when the smuggler pulls Cassian’s other arm over his shoulders, taking much of the strain from Jyn.  From the way her body she shook under him he wasn’t sure how much longer she could have held his weight.

 While Jyn, it seemed, had snuck into the detention block using stealth and the ‘trooper armor she had acquired, they escape with no such subtlety.  They probably wouldn’t have made it if not for the low number of troops at the outpost and a timely tip from Chirrut that lead them along a slightly longer but quieter rout.

 Blaster fire rains around them as they sprint out of the hanger and towards the rondevu point.  The rocky landscape of the moon makes for difficult running, but instinct and adrenalin have taken over and Cassian manages to keep his feet under him without too much of Han’s help, despite his concussion.  

 Chewbacca appears at the top of the Millennium Falcon’s entrance ramp and calls - Cassian is sure, despite not generally being able to understand the Wookie - for them to hurry.  Baze reaches the Falcon first and he and Chewbacca stand post at the entrance, covering the others - with bowcaster and repeater cannon alike -  as they tumble to the ramp.

 Cassian has spent every moment of their frenzied, impossible escape keeping Jyn in his sightlines, terrified that if she vanishes for even one second she will be taken from him forever.  She runs just ahead of him, turning back every so often to fire her stolen blaster at the troops behind them that gain ground with each moment.  Her mouth is set and her eyes are tight.  To anyone else she might simply look worried, like she’s concentrating on getting off this Force-forsaken moon.  But Cassian knows Jyn and he can see she is in pain.  Where that pain originates from Cassian can only guess.  And he’s trying his best not to.  She falls briefly, but Chirrut catches her and together they stumble into the Falcon.  

 Han waves the rest of them on board then sprints to the cockpit.  

 “Bodhi, get us out of here!”

 Bodhi must hear because the moment Baze is clear they are airborne.  The rest of the crew filter quickly into the common area.  Chewbacca is yelling at Han about something - presumably being left in the ship with Bodhi - and K2 is spouting the statistical likelihood, or unlikelihood, of them making out of the sector alive.  

 The passengers quickly grab onto whatever stable objects they can find as the Falcon shakes and spins under enemy fire.  Cassian gratefully sinks into a seat at the technical station, the whirling of the ship only serving to worsen the pounding in his head.  He grips the workbench, eyes seeking Jyn, who has fallen onto one of the lounge seats, her borrowed Imperial armor battered but showing no signs of serious damage.  His heart tightens knowing that, for better or worse, the pain written across Jyn’s frighteningly pale face isn’t from any blaster wound.     

 “We’re gonna need some help here!” Han shouts down the hallway and Baze and Chirrut - whose abilities Cassina has long since given up doubting - run to the gun wells.  

 Even K2 falls silent as blasts shatter the air around them, then the sounds of the Falcon firing back fill the ship, followed quickly by enthusiastic cheering.  

 “Oh good, they’ve actually hit something,” K observes.  “Not that it’ll matter if the hyperdrive gives out again.”  Cassian shoots the droid a half exasperated, half affectionate look before the ship dips again and the firing resumes.    

 A blast hits the ship and they are tossed about wildly.  Random tools, scrap parts, and papers fly off the technical station and K’s legs waver dangerously.  Jyn lets out a cry, her face grimacing in fear and pain.  Even from a few feet away Cassian can see the way her jaw clenches.  He wishes he could go to her.  If it weren’t for the near constant shaking of the ship and exchange of fire, he would, concussion be damned.

 “Everyone hold on!” comes Solo’s shout, punctuated by a cry from Chewie.      

 The ship bucks under them, then settles.  The sound of gunfire fades as the ship, and all its passengers, are pulled into hyperspace.    

 *****

 Jyn clutches the edge of the hologram table as the Millennium Falcon settles into hyperspace.  She tightens her grip to stop her hands from shaking, keeping her focus trained on the table, the black and white squares of the currently inactive game, and the standard-issue Stormtrooper gloves she is wearing.  She tunes out the noises around her, her own breathing loud in her ears.  

 A hand on her shoulder - Cassian’s hand, of course - and a quiet “Jyn?” pull her out of her own mind with a start.  A strangled gasp escapes her and she jolts away from the touch.  She can only meet Cassian’s worried and confused eyes for a moment before she jumps from the bench and pushes herself past him, fleeing towards the crew cabins before the entire ship collapses in on her.                    

 Her panicked steps lead her blindly into one of the cabins.  The door swings shut behind her and Jyn shakes, the frantic energy filling her body threatening to send her flying in every direction at once.  

 She has to get the armor off.  She can’t stand to be in it a moment longer, the stark whiteness of it sends her mind reeling back to Wobani, to Scarif, to a thousand other places she doesn’t want to go.  To the cell only hours ago, to the sight of Cassian lying broken on the floor, and to the impassive ‘troopers who had calmly demanded the location of the Rebel base as she screamed and thrashed under the IT-O droid.  She yanks the gloves off with her teeth then turns her trembling fingers to the armor’s straps, her wild energy sending her pacing, unable to stop moving, as she fumbles with the clasps.

 Cassian closes to door gently behind him.  He had followed her - she knew he would, no matter how much she wished he hadn’t - and he stands quietly for a moment watching her as she struggles with the uniform.  Her attempt to escape the choking armor becomes even more frenzied as she rips the pieces off her body.  She can’t look at him, can’t stop moving, can’t stop her kriffing hands from shaking.

 “Jyn.”  Cassian’s voice is quiet and it shatters her.  She throws down the last of the ‘trooper’s armor and suddenly she’s screaming.  She throws herself at Cassian, fists flying wildly, hitting his chest over and over as she screams and sobs.

 “How could you, you kirffing son of a Bantha!  You were going to kill yourself!  You were going to do it!”

 Through the Stormtrooper’s mask she had seen the lullaby pill and her heart had nearly stopped.  Had she been a moment later the cell door would have revealed only Cassian’s lifeless body, but she had pushed those thoughts back.  The escape had pulled her mind away, but now the images ran through her head on a repeated loop; a hologram of horror.   

 He stands there as she beats him, allowing Jyn to throw her fury and panic at him, his hands going to her shoulders to steady her as she hurls fists and words alike.

 “You were going to make me watch you die!  You promised not to leave me but you were going to take it anyway.  How could you?!  You promised!”

 Her voice breaks and she struggles in his arms.  Pain courses through her and she feels her strength began to fade.  The others had gotten to her as fast as they could, but there had been plenty of time for the ‘troopers and torture droids to have their way with her.  She had barely been conscious when Han and Baze had blasted down the door.  The world tilts around her, turning dark at the edges.    

 The empire’s torture had left her stunned and short of breath, but seeing Cassina with the lullaby pill had broken her in a way the Empire never could.  She can’t stop, can’t calm down, can’t seem to breathe even as her shrieks turn to sobs and finally to hysterical gasps for air.  It almost hadn’t mattered.  It had almost been too late.  Her entire frame shudders and retches, pain and terror mixing, taxing her body to the limit.

 She thinks she can hear Cassian speaking but roaring loud as TIE fighters fills her ears and she is dimly aware that the frenzied pulsing surrounding her is actually her heartbeat.  Once again everything is too close, the world closing in even as her head spins and sways and she staggers on her feet.  Cassian’s arms try to capture her but she pushes him away, even Cassian unable to contain her panic.  Her chest heaves for breath and her mind can only comprehend one thing.

 I can’t breathe.  I can’t breathe.  I can’t breathe.

 *****           

 Cassian lets Jyn strike him, the words she manages to get out through her sobs and incoherent screams piercing straight through his heart.  It’s not, Cassian decides, that Jyn is pulling her punches so much as she is simply unable, in her current state, to actually land a good hit.  He wants to calm her, to comfort her, but she seems beyond hearing him and when she stumbles and he tries to pull her into his arms she cries out, shoving him back.    

 Jyn reels away, her breathing coming in irregular bursts.  Cassian has seen her panic before, seen her ripped from dreams by her own terrified shouts, but this is different.  She cannot seem to stay still, her feet shifting, her shaking hands pushing through her hair, and her eyes wide and frantic.  He doesn’t want to crowd her, doesn’t want to send her further into the attack, but at the same time all he wants is to hold her.

 A moment later she rocks on her feet, her entire body swaying, and her strength seems to break.  She collapses with a cry, knees hitting the floor of the ship.  She doubles over, pressing both hands to the ground as if she is trying to stop the room from spinning.  Cassian imagines she probably is.  Quickly Cassian kneels on the floor in front of her.  

 “Hey, hey, I’m here.  I’m right here,” he tells her.  He keeps himself at arm's distance but raises his hands to her shoulders, pushing her body upright.  He knows that if she’s having trouble breathing restricting her lung capacity isn’t going to help.

 Jyn is no longer crying, all her energy seeming to be focused on the simple intake of breath.  She convulses under his hands and her frantic eyes find his.

 “Easy, Jyn. Just breathe.”

 Jyn’s eyes squeeze shut and she shakes her head.  A whimper escapes her.

 “Jyn, listen to me.  Look.”  Cassian keeps his voice firm, his fingers squeezing into her shoulders.  He takes a breath, steeling himself for what he has to say next.  “I thought you were dead.”  His words seem to reach her, enough, at least, for her eyes to flash open.  “They told me they killed you.  Told me you were dead.”  Cassian’s voice shakes at the confession, but Jyn begins to still, her focus slipping momentarily away from the effort of breathing.

 Cassian forces himself to continue, despite the feeling that his chest will be ripped in two if he allows himself to remember - even for one moment - the pain and overwhelming, incomprehensible loss he had felt in the cell.  “They told me you were gone and I-I couldn’t do it, Jyn.  I couldn’t keep going.  Not without you.  Mi amor, I’m sorry.”  His voice dips to a whisper, tentative fingers pushing away the hair that had fallen into Jyn’s face.  “I’m so sorry.”      

 Jyn captures his hand in her own, clinging to it like a lifeline, as if his grasp alone can lead her back to reality.  Her breath continues to shudder in her chest, every inhale a struggle.

 “That’s it.  Easy,” Cassian murmurs.  Jym whimpers again, her breath stuttering in her as she exhales.

 “Focus on me, Jyn.  You can do it.”  He holds her gaze and tightens his grip on her hand.  “You know where you are.  We’re all safe.  You understand?”  She nods desperately, unable to speak.  “I just want you to breathe now, Jyn.  You can do that.”

 She nods again but her eyes are still wet.  Nevertheless she follows Cassian, her chest rising and falling, despite the occasional shudder, with his.  His gaze and coaxing words guide her.

 “Shh, mi amor.”  

 Breath.

 “It’s alright.”

 In and out.  

 “I’m right here.”

 Inhale, exhale.  

 “You’re safe, now.  We’re both safe.”     

 Another breath.

 “I promise.  I won’t leave you.”

 Just breathe.

 Jyn keeps her eyes locked on Cassian’s, her body finally still except for the rise and fall of her chest with every breath - each deeper than the next.  Then, slowly, she pushes herself closer to Cassian.  When she presses her head into his shoulder and grasps his shirt in her fist Cassian finally allows himself to hold her, to rest his cheek on the top of her head, and to wrap his arms gently around her.  It isn’t until that moment that he is sure she is truly safe.  Truly alive.

 They sit quietly together.  Jyn has stopped crying and Cassian does his best to focus on her - on her warmth, on the weight of her body pressed to his - and not on his thoughts that bubble just below the surface.  He pushes most of them down - thoughts of death and blood are chased away by Jyn’s presence in his arms - but there is one he cannot escape.  One memory that resurfaces over and over, each time causing Cassian to hug Jyn a little closer, clutch her to him a little tighter.  Finally it overwhelms him.

 “Jyn?”

 He can feel her breathe her response into his shoulder.  

 “K2 and the others... they didn’t get to you in time, did they?” he trails off, knowing she’ll understand.  There is silence and when Jyn answers she doesn't lift her head.  She will not look him in the eyes.

 “I’m alright, Cassian.”  

 “You’re not,” he whispers.  He thinks of the way she shook under his weight in the cell, of her pained cries as the ship had thrown her passengers about during the firefight, and of the way she had collapsed, only moments ago, her strength, as well as her breath, taken from her.  She wasn’t alright.  How could she be?

 Finally Jyn looks up at him.  She presses her palm to his chest, over his heart.  “No,” she admits.  “But I will be.  We both will be.”   

 Cassian closes his eyes at her response.  He shifts under Jyn, raising his hands to the cord around his neck.  “I believe this is yours,” he tells her.  Tears have tracked their way through the dirt on her face, but her eyes light up at the sight of her crystal.  

 “I thought I’d lost it,” she says as Cassian reaches to fasten the necklace back in its proper place.  Jyn touches the Kyber crystal, wonder and grief mixing together on her face.  “I thought I’d lost you both.”  Her voice is small and Cassian pulls her back into him, not quite ready to let go of her.    

He had always known the Rebellion would take things from him, cause him pain.  He always assumed it would take his life, in the end.  He had accepted this, had believed he had gone past the point of no return, that there was no line he wouldn’t - and hadn't - crossed for the cause.  Perhaps that remained true.  What had changed, he realizes, is that the Alliance was no longer the only cause he’d given himself to, the only love to which he would dedicate his life.  The woman in his arms, Cassian now knows, is his galaxy, his hope, and his home.  And he would live - and die - by her side.

AO3

Unfortunately I do not own Star Wars!

[joeybelle]

Starlight - Chapter 26

Cassian Andor x Original female character

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Strong language, Violence

Size: 7300

*

The war room was incredibly busy and the air was heavy with tension. She wasn’t used to seeing it filled to the brim with people staring at unfamiliar holo-maps and blinking lights on screens, but she knew the concerned looks on their faces really well. The already intimate feeling of dread had accentuated and it seemed that she wasn’t the only one feeling it.

“It’s been brought to our attention that you know Galen Erso personally,” Mon Mothma said, looking just as poised as ever. “Could you tell us more about that?”

Cora had to make an effort to pry her eyes from one of the blinking screens. Her throat felt incredibly dry. “Well, I assume you know the circumstances in which I met him.” Mon Mothma nodded and Cora had to swallow the panic. If Cassian had seen fit to tell them about that, then something really bad must have happened. “Then you probably know everything already.”

She could see Draven fidgeting uncomfortably in the corner of her eye, but he kept silent. She wondered if Cassian had been able to somehow stop him from intervening; or was it all Mothma? Speaking of Cassian, where was he?

“What do you know about what he was working on? What do you remember?”

Cora frowned, making an effort to remember. “Some sort of new fighter ships, but I don’t know much about them.” It felt odd going back to being interrogated, although she could feel the atmosphere was nowhere as hostile as it used to be. “As you might have guessed, they didn’t really talk openly about this in front of a kid.”

“But you’ve looked at the files,” Draven chimed in, apparently unable to keep his mouth shut. “You must have seen something.”

She returned his glare. “The details of whatever the Empire was doing weren’t really my priority back then. You keep forgetting I’m a doctor, not a spy.” He shut his mouth and crossed his arms over his chest, his face going back to looking moderately annoyed.

“Do you think this was the only project he was working on at that time?” Mothma asked, a lot calmer than Draven had been.

The frown on Cora’s face deepened, but it was of little use. “No… I don’t think it was the only thing he was working on.” She closed her eyes, trying hard to remember the things that had happened such a long time ago. She’d never thought that they would ever become relevant. “I remember pretty well when they first came to Corinthia, because it was so unexpected to have another family living with us. It was a big deal for us too, because Krennic was going to coordinate this thing. He called this project my mother was part of his ‘pet project’ and that he was working with Galen Erso on something else. Something about Erso doing this as a personal favour… or something.” It wasn’t very convincing, but her brain was just patching together broken memory fragments. “He was regarded as a very good engineer as far as I know. I guess they could have had him working on more than one project at a time.”

“Did anyone ever talk about what this other project was in your presence, or might you have overheard something?”

“Not that I can recall.”

“Would you tell us, even if you did?” Draven mumbled and Cora could swear she saw him roll his eyes.

“If you ask nicely,” she spat back, but a raised hand from Mon Mothma silenced them both.

“You mentioned they lived on Corinthia?” She took back the reins of the questioning and steered it into less hostile territory. “For how long?”

“Six months to a year? I don’t really remember.”

“That’s a huge margin,” Draven concluded.

“I was a kid.”

Mothma ignored the interruption and continued as if nothing had happened. “So you knew them well.”

“His wife more than him. She was really motherly. I remember liking her a lot.” However, she couldn’t remember her name.

“And you knew his daughter too. Jyn Erso.” Cora nodded. “Were you two close?”

“As close as the only two kids on a warship can get.” Cora shrugged. “Yes, I guess you can say we were pretty close.”

“Did you ever wonder what happened to her or try to reconnect after your mother’s death?”

“No. I didn’t really have time to care about others that much.” She was pretty sure it sounded a lot more janded than she intended.

“Do you know Saw Gerrera?” Draven asked, looking a little impatient.

“No, who is he?”

“He used to be part of the Alliance,” Mothma explained, and for the first time Cora noticed a shadow pass over her features. “However, his views are a lot more extreme than ours, so he decided a long time ago to follow a different path. He’s caused us a lot of trouble over the years.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know him.”

Draven snorted. “Didn’t they bother to at least teach you the names of those you were meant to kill?”

The level of annoyance was rising, but the anti-hangover medication seemed to have the secondary effect of mellowing her out, so what came out of her mouth sounded surprisingly detached. “I seem to keep having to repeat myself, General: even when I worked for the Empire, I was still a doctor. We’re not the ones doing the killing.” She turned her head to look at Mothma. “How is any of this relevant and what’s it got to do with me?”

“We know that Galen Erso left the Empire at some point and went into hiding. Sometimes after your mother’s accident, we assume. He did it with the help of Saw Gerrera,” Mothma explained. “After his wife was killed, he was forced…”

“We don’t know that,” Draven interrupted.

“He returned to his former duties within the Empire.” Mothma shot him an icy glare. “His daughter wasn’t captured, but was rescued and raised by Saw Gerrera. He trained her like one of his fighters. She fell off the radar for a while, but we managed to track her down.”

Cora nodded. She had to admit that she hadn’t thought about Jyn in years, and even when she did it was just a passing thought. She hoped she was happy though. From what she remembered, Jyn was a small and soft child, always afraid of Cora’s shortcuts though the darkness of the ventilation system. She would have never guessed that she could ever be trained to become a fighter, but time and circumstances change people. She was a prime example.

“Do you think it’s possible that she’d remember you?”

Cora had to once again pry her eyes from one of the blinking screens at the edge of her field of vision. “Perhaps? She was quite young and I don’t think I’ve made such a big impression, but she might remember me.”

Mothma nodded, but her expression was unreadable, besides her usual motherly vibe. “Would you be willing to talk to her?”

“Are you trying to recruit her?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that.” Cora waited for her to elaborate, but it seemed no further explanation was coming.

“And classified?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. She was really tired of being treated differently from everybody else. Although she was now one of them, she could still feel a cloud of suspicion looming over her head.

“Well, no…”

“Yes!” Draven interjected, taking a step forward. “All you have to do is talk to her, and get her to be a little more… cooperative.”

“I would really love to know what I’m getting myself into, General,” Cora said through gritted teeth. “With all due respect.”

“There’s been talk of a pilot,” Mon Mothma said, ignoring Draven’s protests. “An imperial cargo pilot has defected. He’s supposed to be carrying some news from Galen Erso for Saw Gerrera, regarding one of the projects he’s been working on. We’ve tried intercepting him, but he seems to have reached Gerrera already.”

“I see.” And there it was again, the sinking feeling that something really bad was going to happen really soon. Now Cora was convinced it wasn’t just an empty feeling. Once again, she was afraid. “So that’s where you’ve sent Cassian to,” she said out loud, before she realized that she had no good excuse for knowing that Cassian had already been shipped. Luckily, she was probably too livid to be able to blush in embarrassment.

“Yes,” Mothma replied, appearing to completely ignore Cora’s confession. “And as you might have guessed,” she sighed, “Saw Gerrera isn’t very keen on talking to us anymore, but we would like to know what sort of information the Pilot might be carrying.”

“So you need Jyn to talk to Saw Gerrera for you.”

“Correct.”

“And you need me to talk to her because… she might not be so keen on talking to you either?”

Mon Mothma nodded. “We think seeing a familiar face might make her a bit more willing to cooperate. Being surrounded by strangers might be a little intimidating. We wouldn’t want her to think we’re hostile towards her in any way.”

They hadn't been so thoughtful with her. Cora grimaced and wondered if Mon Mothma didn’t sense the irony in her own words or if she just ignored it. However, by the not so subtle roll of eyes from General Draven, Cora assumed that they were instead intended for the General’s ears. A warning, perhaps.

“Alright,” Cora agreed. “I’ll talk to her, but don’t expect much. I’m not sure she remembers me, or if my presence here can change anything really.” But she wanted to be there anyway, just in case Draven decided to bark at her like a rabid dog. She still remembered with dread how they treated her when she was first brought before them.

“Thank you,” Mothma said, with a slight tilt of her head. “We appreciate your help.”

“Yeah,” Cora mumbled. “Glad to be of use. Let me know when you need me. Anything else?”

“No, thank you. You may get back.��� The smile on her face was probably the friendliest Cora had ever gotten from the poised senator and that gave her a little hope that at least she didn’t consider her a traitor anymore. She smiled and got up to leave.

“So you said found Jyn? How’s she doing?” Cora asked before exiting the room.

“We found her in an imperial labour camp,” Mothma said, following her to the door. “Not doing great I suppose.”

“Neither are we.”

“How so?”

“I don’t really know,” Cora said, embarrassed. She hadn't meant to say that out loud. “I just got this feeling that something bad’s about to happen.”

“You might be right,” she said, her face suddenly turning somber. She followed her outside of the war room, letting the blast doors close behind them. “There’s been this rumour that the project Galen Erso was working on is in fact a weapon,” she said, keeping her voice down so the passersby couldn’t hear. “A planet killer, someone called it.”

Cora froze in place, her eyes widening slightly as she turned her head to look at the Senator. The woman’s expression was just as unreadable as ever, but it had lost its usual warmth.

“Do we stand a chance against it? If the rumour’s real, I mean.”

“Of course,” she replied, and her face broke into a reserved smile. “We have to.”

Cora nodded, but she was sure her face reflected every bit of her inner turmoil. She really hoped that whomever spread that rumour had been wrong, otherwise she wasn’t sure what a handful of rebels could do against it. “I’ll be around, if you need me,” she let the Senator know, excusing herself. She needed a stiff drink.

“We’ll call for you. But until we know anything for sure,” Mon Mothma added before returning to the War Room, “there’s no need to cause any unnecessary panic.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Cora wasn’t sure how she managed to reach the med bay downstairs, for the world was a bit of a blur. It didn’t help that the shock had undone whatever effect the hangover medication had on her, and now her stomach was protesting loudly, threatening to expel its contents right then and there. She had to take a moment to regain her composure before she could move on to look for her friend.

“Are you feeling okay?” Lewella asked, concern pretty visible on her face, once she saw Cora’s livid face.

“More or less,” Cora replied taking a seat next to her friend on a supply crate.

“Eat something,” she said, pushing her plate of food towards Cora, but even the smell made her nauseous.

“No thanks,” she replied, grimacing and pushing it back.

“Rude,” Lew mumbled. “Are you really alright? You look awful.”

“Hangover,” Cora said in a really detached voice that didn’t really sound like her own.

“That bad?”

“Something bad’s about to happen,” Cora said, before she could stop herself. She knew she shouldn’t worry her friend, but there was no one else she could talk to and it was killing her. “Something really big’s coming.”

“That’s just hangover induced paranoia,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “Did you drink something weird? I swear, if Melshi’s brought anything weird from his missions again, I’ll ice him.”

“No, I’ve been feeling it for a while. It’s like… It’s like it’s always there in the back of my mind lately.”

“We’re all feeling things like that sometimes, you just learn to ignore it after a while,” she said, poking at her food, but Cora could see she wasn’t eating anymore.

Cora kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t something she could rationally explain, not without telling her what Mon Mothma had asked her not to. So she just stared into the distance, watching the ships come and go.

“Besides,” Lewella added, dropping her food to the side and inching closer to Cora so she could comfortably place an arm around her shoulders, “if anything is coming, we’ll be here to face it. All of us, together.”

Cora smiled and leaned into her friend’s touch, finding a bit of comfort in her presence. “Do you need help with anything? I’d like to keep busy for a while, keep my mind off things.”

“I could find something for you to do.” Lew yawned and hopped off the crate. “But I’m not letting you overwork yourself. By the way, weren’t you supposed to be working today?”

“Took a couple of days off,” Cora mumbled, remembering once again the reason why she did so.

“And you drank without me?” she said, looking completely bewildered, so much that Cora burst into laughter.

“It wasn’t a happy occasion,” Cora tried excusing herself.

“I don’t care, you know I can drink for every occasion! Have I told you about that time…”

Cora laughed, only half-listening to what her friend was saying, and ushered her towards the door, leaving the busy hangar behind.

*

It wasn’t until the next day that she heard anything from the War Room. The wait had been excruciating, her mind full with the wildest scenarios, weapons and armies and imperial warships. She tried to imagine what something called a planet killer would look like, but she failed. Her mental state hadn’t been in the best of shapes, so the new information had sent it into overdrive. But deep down, she knew she was afraid. Most of all, she was scared for Cassian.

She was always a bit wary when he was away, wondering where he’d ended up this time, what he was doing, in what sort of danger they were putting him. But right now she desperately wanted him back, safe. Because right now the stakes were insanely high.

She couldn’t understand, if the rumours of a weapon that could destroy planets were real, how they’d even stand a chance. How do you fight a weapon that has the power to wipe you, and your army, and the whole planet along with your base? As far as Cora was aware, and she was sure she wasn’t wildly off the mark, the Rebellion had nothing that could compare to that. It was still a small resistance against the might of the Empire. They had no chance, and yet she knew they would not give up easily.

She wished she could still be a coward, but unfortunately that time had gone. Her love for Cassian hadn’t managed to make her fearless, but had made her willing to confront her fears. She knew she couldn’t throw everything away, she couldn’t just jump on a ship and run anymore. She was here, where she belonged, and would be here until the end, whenever and wherever that might be. She only wished Cassian would be by her side too.

She was working when they called her to the War Room. There was an odd tension surrounding her, like the whole world was buzzing, but it could very well be that it was she who was the tense one.

“You’re currently calling yourself Liana Hallik. Is that correct?” she heard Draven say once she passed the blast doors, arriving in the middle of the interrogation. They hadn't had the courtesy of inviting her from the start, but it was better than never, she assumed.

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over her. Her mother’s name had been Liana. It was still painful to hear it spoken by someone else, but that also meant that maybe Jyn remembered the time spent on ISD Corinthia.

She moved closer, hoping to get a glimpse of the girl she hadn’t seen since they both only reached a stormtrooper’s knee, but instead her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she saw Cassian leaning next to a screen. He was looking at her with the corner of his eye, and a discreet nod of his head took the place of hello. Cora smiled, despite the nervousness and focused her attention on the woman being interrogated.

She was about Cora’s age, which was consistent with what she knew about her. She bore very little resemblance to the little girl Cora remembered from her youth, but that was also to be expected. People change a lot in...sixteen? Seventeen years? That’s almost an entire lifetime.

Jyn looked exhausted and more than a little apprehensive, but Cora’d been in her position before and she knew how uncomfortable it could be to have all those eyes fixed on you. Especially Draven’s pronounced frown. And if she were to he honest, Cassian wasn’t really helping either. Over time she’d forgotten just how intimidating he could be to someone who didn’t know him. They were all ganging up on the poor girl.

Cora wished she could chime in, try to shield her a little from the assault, but she knew it wasn’t her place to speak yet. She trusted Mothma’s judgement, and if the threat was as big as they thought, they didn’t really have much time for pleasantries.

“We’re up against the clock here, girl,” Draven barked, looking annoyed. “So if there’s nothing to talk about, we’ll just put you back where we found you.”

“I was a child,” she defended herself, and Cora felt really bad for her. “Saw Gerrera saved my life. He raised me. But I’ve no idea where he is. I haven’t seen him in years.”

“We know how to find him, that’s not our problem. What we need is someone who gets us through the door without being killed,” Cassian said, and it was almost a flashback to her own interrogations. He really needed to learn how to be nicer.

They all explained to her what they’d told Cora the day before: there was an imperial defector—currently being held up by Saw Gerrera— that was claiming the Emperor was building a super weapon with the power to destroy planets, that her father was in fact one of the lead engineers and he’d been the one who sent the pilot. They promised her freedom and a clean record in exchange for her help. It seemed they’d become more lenient over time. Cora was only a little bitter about it.

There was more talk about the hows and whens and wheres, but to Cora those meant nothing. The details didn’t interest her because she wasn’t going to be included in the mission anyway. She just wished Cassian wouldn’t be involved either, especially with the looming feeling of doom still very much present. She watched him from the corner of her eye: he looked tired and worried.

Gone was the glow he had the day before. He once again looked older than his age, the lines on his face deeper than before and the dark circles pretty noticeable. He usually looked like that after long, tiring missions, but all this change in just a couple of days. She had to wonder what had happened.

Cora wished she could step closer, put her hands around his chest and hold him tight, tell him that whatever weight he was carrying on his shoulders she was willing to share with him.

“This here is Doctor Corinthia Enoch,” said Mon Mothma, pulling Cora back from her thoughts and reminding her that she wasn’t there just to spectate. “You might remember her from your childhood. She’s one of our doctors.”

Jyn’s eyes narrowed as Cora took a step forward, trying to look as harmless as possible although she knew the medical uniform could be just as intimidating as the military ones. But the girl smiled, even if it was half a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“You’re the girl in the vents,” she said, and Cora couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“I’ve been called worse,” she laughed, which somehow eased the tension a little. Cora took a seat so she wasn’t towering over her. Draven had turned around and focused his attention on something else, so the atmosphere was a lot friendlier all of a sudden. As friendly as it could get in something called the War Room. Cassian was still frowning in his corner, but Cora knew that was just his work face.

There was an awkward silence between them, while Jyn carefully studied her. She seemed to consider whether to trust her or not, or maybe she was just trying to remember things about their shared childhood. Cora waited patiently for her to speak. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do anyway, as far as she was aware, Jyn had already agreed to work with them, so she was there only as a sort of moral comfort.

“Never thought you’d end up being a doctor,” Jyn said after a while. “I thought you were pretty set on becoming a pilot.”

Cora smiled a sad smile. “Yeah, well, life happened,” she replied. “Not everything turns up as planned.”

“And a Rebel?”

“That’s… a more recent development to be honest,” she smiled, a bit embarrassed. “But one I don’t regret in the least.”

“Really?” She looked at her with questioning eyes, and Cora didn’t know if there was distrust in them or not. “What made you change sides?”

That was an easy question with a very complicated answer. Cora took a deep breath, taking her time to find something to say. She could see Draven watching her from the corner of his eye, his back still turned to Jyn, but his whole stance told her he was listening. She wondered if she was there to help win Jyn’s trust, or prove her own loyalty. After such a long time, his distrust was insulting.

“I realized I was believing a lie. I had my eyes shut for a very long time only choosing to see what didn’t oppose any of my convictions.” She took a deep breath. “But once I started looking around and started seeing more than two meters in front of me, I couldn’t just pretend everything was alright.” It was all very vague, but being more specific would have taken a very long time and she assumed no one had time for that. “It still took a long time for me actually leave. Being kidnapped by a certain Intelligence Officer helped a lot in making that decision,” she concluded, pointing a finger in his direction. Cassian snorted, but he did a very good job keeping a straight face.

Jyn smiled the same half smile, but she seemed a little more relaxed this time. “Sounds like quite the story.”

“Yeah. Remind me to tell it to you one day,” she said with a smile. “When we’ll have more time and some… uuuh… better company. Hopefully alcohol too.”

Without Draven listening in and with Mon Mothma seeming to have disappeared, the atmosphere was a lot friendlier. If only Cassian would have sat down beside them so it would just be a talk among friends, instead of a negotiation. But he was talking to Draven in a corner, not paying attention to them anymore.

“Welcome to the Rebellion,” Cora said, smiling at the girl. Jyn blinked a few times in surprise, before mumbling a ‘thank you’. “Don’t worry too much about Draven and the rest. They put up a tough front, but they’re not bad people.” Cora hoped she was right. Unfortunately, Cassian and her few friends were the only ones she could genuinely say that about. Draven was still a mystery. “Anyway, if you ever need me, your best bet is the med bay.”

Jyn looked at her and nodded. She looked tired, but what else was to be expected from someone who had just been rescued from a labour camp. Cora wondered if she could end this meeting and save Jyn from it, since it seemed like nothing else was currently being discussed. She was still a doctor and she could always invoke the patient’s well-being, but she didn’t know if in this case they would listen to her.

Before she could open her mouth to say something, Cassian took a few steps towards the table. “We have to go,” he said, looking at the girl.

Cora’s heart sunk. “Already?” She was unable to hide the disappointment in her voice.

“Soon,” he replied, and Cora could tell he was looking away. “We still have some preparations to make, but we’ll be leaving soon. Thank you, Doctor, we’ll call you if we need further assistance.”

His eyes were cold when he looked at her and Cora wished there was no one around them so she could hug him until some life seeped back into them. She had hoped she could catch him alone for at least a couple of minutes before being shipped again, but that might not be happening.

She nodded and got up. “It’s been my pleasure. Captain Andor, Jyn,” she saluted, before excusing herself and leaving the room.

The feeling of doom followed her on the busy corridors until she entered the med bay. Doctor Crane was sitting at the desk, diligently taking her place since she was away.

“You don’t look too good,” he said, not lifting his eyes from the data-pad in front of him.

“I don’t feel too good,” she admitted, taking a few steps towards the window. It seemed like there was a different kind of rush that day.

“We’ll get over this too,” he said, after a couple of minutes of silence.

“You think?” Cora asked, not bothering to turn around. “A planet killer?”

“I trust the Rebellion and I trust you all. One way or another, we will win. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day, there will be light again.”

“I hope you’re right.”

She didn’t feel hopeful, if she were to be honest, but she trusted Cassian. She trusted him with every cell in her being. And if there was anyone to have a chance, it was him.

She tried piecing together the information she had gotten from Jyn’s interrogation. So there was a super weapon that Galen Erso had built, but he had also built a flaw in its design, so it could be taken down at the right time. And now he had sent someone to bring this information to the Rebel Alliance.

Cora couldn’t wrap her mind around how much this man was risking sending word from the middle of the Empire directly to the Rebellion. He must really have balls of steel not only to secretly work for years to sabotage an Imperial super weapon, but to risk everything by sending a cargo pilot to hand them the information. Cora was starting to get nauseous just thinking about it. Compared to these people, she’d never be more than a coward.

“Doctor Enoch,” she heard Mon Mothma’s voice coming from the other side of the room and turned to look at her. “Can I please have a word with you?”

Cora nodded and followed her out of the med bay. There was a sense of weariness as she walked behind Mothma. She wasn't used to get this much attention from the members of the council, all in the same day. She didn't like that she wasn't in the med bay anymore, the place where she felt most in control. But she followed her anyway.

“I know this comes very late, and I have to say I personally am very ashamed of this,” Mon Mothma said once they were safely away from everyone else, in the privacy of one of the personal offices—one that Cora assumed existed, but had never previously entered. There was another officer there holding the duffle bag she had taken with her when she had left her job on the star destroyer and ran away with Cassian. That was unexpected. “We’ve decided a while ago that we would be giving back the things that we took from you, but because of my personal negligence and the things that have happened lately, it seems to have slipped the minds of those responsible with giving it back.” She smiled, but there was no note of embarrassment on her face. “You will see that everything you had in it is still there, we made sure that everything was kept under strict supervision.”

The officer handed her the bag and Cora looked inside. As far as she could tell, everything was still there, including the healing field generator. Especially the healing field generator. She always assumed that they had taken it and given it to one of the field medics, but it seemed that somehow they respected her ownership over the stolen device.

“Lieutenant Marek has a list of everything that was inside at the time of your… imprisonment. You can both go over it, make sure that everything’s alright.”

“There’s no need, I’ll take your word for it,” Cora said, flinging the bag over her shoulder. “Why now?” she asked before leaving the room. “Why give it back now?”

“As I’ve said, we were planning to do it a while ago, but…”

“Yes, but why remember it today?” Cora interrupted her, knowing full well that she was being rude. “Ma’am,” she added, for good measure. “Why today? Have you all decided that you trust me enough not to try and run away or have you given up hope that the Rebellion will survive?”

“Neither,” she said, and seemed not to notice the snark in Cora’s voice. Or she had been expecting it. “You are free to leave whenever you want.”

Cora’s eyes widened and she burst into an incredulous laughter. “And my tracker bracelet?”

“It will be taken down whenever you wish. You have my word.” Cora still looked at her with wide eyes, not being able to fully comprehend the sudden turn of events. “If you wish to leave, we’ll ensure transport for you to a safe place in the galaxy. Also, we won’t forget the help you provided us with until now, so if you ever need us, we’ll be here for you.” The woman was smiling and sounded really genuine, dispelling any suspicion Cora might have had that this was some sort of test to prove her loyalty once again.

“I’m not leaving,” Cora said with determination in her voice. “I’ll be… in the med bay if you need me,” she said.

The amount of things that had happened in only one day was overwhelming. Cora was used to working and staying alert for 12 hours straight, but even on one of the busiest days at work she didn’t feel like there was this much information to process. First, there was the threat of being wiped by an imperial superweapon; then the knowledge that Cassian was being sent to fuck knows where to find a pilot who might have information on how to destroy said planet killer; and now, all of a sudden, she was no longer a prisoner and all her stuff had been returned to her… She was overwhelmed.

“Anything I can help you with?” Dr Crane asked, looking at her with a worried expression on his face as she dropped the duffle bag on one of the tables.

“Ummm…” she looked around her, completely lost. She had no idea what to do next, so she focused on the only thing that was clear in her mind: seeing Cassian before he left.

Once she’d decided this, it was like her mind was in working order once again. All the other things she needed to process were put on a mental shelf and left to be dealt with another time, right now Cassian was the only thing that mattered. She started unloading things from her duffle bag and checking them. Most of the medication and survival gear she had stolen from the Empire seemed to be in working order.

“Doc, can I borrow some supplies?” she asked, already opening one of the medicine cabinets and pulling some stuff out.

“Be my guest,” he said, smiling at the frenzy with which she was shoving things in her bag.

She knew Cassian would do some stupid shit, she was convinced of that. And even if he wouldn’t, someone else would, and he’d still end up injured. She knew, she’d treated him so many times before. And she couldn’t be there with him to save him, if anything happened. So preparing a bag full of survival gear was the best she could do. The portable healing field generator could end up being a lifesaver and she was more than happy to give it to him.

She was putting the supplies in order, deciding what to leave in the bag and what was just her own personal stuff when her hand touched the blaster. She’d forgotten about it, and she was still surprised they’d given it back to her. She pulled it out and checked it. It was still working and it seemed like someone even changed the energy cell before giving it back, making sure that it was fully loaded. Cora lifted her eyes to look at Doctor Crane, but he wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. She hid the weapon under her medical tunic.

“Doc, is it okay if I take half an hour off?” she asked, flinging the bag over her shoulder.

“Of course,” he said, still busy with reading something. “Grab something to eat on the way back too.” Cora nodded and made a mental note to stop by the mess hall, even though she wasn’t hungry in the least. “And wish him good luck.”

She smiled before bolting out the door and running towards the elevators. Hopefully she’d still be able to catch him.

The distress could be sensed everywhere, in the rushed way people walked down the corridor, in the weary way they looked at each other. Cora wondered just how much they knew. She doubted the rumour could be kept a secret for long and from the way they talked to Jyn Erso in a room full of people, they didn’t even try that hard.

She found Jyn next to the ER, heading towards Cassian’s ship. She seemed ready to go wherever the Rebellion was sending them, her face a mask of determination.

“Leaving already?” Cora asked, trying to match her pace. “They didn’t give you much time to rest, did they?”

Jyn nodded. “We are up against the clock, it seems,” she said, mirroring Draven’s snark and Cora couldn't help but smile.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Cora asked, showing just how much she didn’t listen to what had been said in the war room.

“Jedha. After that, I have no idea.” She shrugged. “To find my father, hopefully.”

Cora had heard about Jedha, but mostly since she’d joined the Rebellion. She knew it had become a dangerous place since the Empire’s occupation, with frequent fights between the locals and the occupying forces. Jyn had to be careful—well, all of them, but she trusted Cassian and K2. Jyn didn’t seem as seasoned, but maybe she was projecting her own insecurities on her. Her image of Jyn was still that of a frail, easily scared child.

“I hope you find him,” Cora said, and she was happy that Jyn returned her smile even if it was short lived. “And when you do, I hope you’ll both visit so we can all have a drink and laugh about our childhood.”

“I still can’t picture you as a rebel,” she said, and her voice sounded a bit sarcastic, but Cora brushed it off. “You were quite the Empire supporter back in the day.”

“Also young and naive,” she laughed, a little embarrassed.

Cora stopped and looked around, at the place that had become her home over time. She wasn’t sure when that had happened, when she’d started calling it home and when she felt like she truly belonged, despite Draven’s insistence to make her feel unwelcome. She didn’t even hate him anymore. She’d gotten used to him and his attitude and he didn’t intimidate her anymore, he was just an annoyance. But she was glad she had gotten the chance to stay and become part of the Rebellion.

“Anyway,” she continued, forcing herself to not get too lost in her own thoughts, “do you have any idea what you’ll be facing when you get there?”

“I guess we’ll have to see.”

Cora wondered if Jyn was really as tough as she tried to look. Probably not, and certainly not without a weapon. Cora had noticed that she hadn’t been given one, and since she had been picked up from a labour camp, she doubted that she had her own. Maybe Cassian would give her one once they’d take off. Somehow she doubted it, she knew he wasn’t the most trusting. But they couldn’t send her in the middle of the battle completely unarmed. Cora could feel her own blaster hard against her body.

“Here, take this,” she said taking it out and handing it to her. Jyn looked from the weapon to Cora and frowned. “I’ll want it back, but you can have it for now.”

“Thanks,” she said, still a little cautious, but taking the weapon nonetheless. It looked a lot more natural in her hand, Cora thought.

K2’s tall, dark outline caught her eye, reminding her why she was there in the first place. “Shall we?” Cora said, pointing towards the U-wing.

It didn’t take long to spot Cassian in the crowd, a little further away, talking to Draven. From the sour look on his face she was sure he didn’t like whatever the general had to say. No wonder Cassian looked so tired all the time. She sighed and waited for him.

“Captain,” she greeted once he had gotten closer.

“Doctor,” he replied, and the frown on his forehead relaxed considerably. “How are you?” he said in a low voice, as if anyone would be listening in.

“Oh, you know, the usual. This whole thing with the pilot seems to have stirred things up a little.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking down. “I wish I didn’t have to tell them anything about…”

“No, it’s alright,” she said, her heart filled with joy knowing that he really meant to keep his promise to her. “Glad to have been of some help. Though I’m not sure I’ve helped much. Anyway,” she said, trying to keep things short as she could see Jyn and K2 already seeming to be butting heads. “Got my stuff back today.” She took the duffle bag off her shoulder and showed it to him.

“They should have done that a long time ago.” The frown was back and although Cora appreciated his indignation, this wasn’t the time.

“Better late than never.” She opened it a little to show him what was inside. “There’s a healing field generator and some stuff that might save your life, so I'm giving it to you. Wait, where are you running off to?” Cassian had started walking briskly towards the U-Wing and Cora strode after him, fully determined to slap him over that stubborn head of his head once he caught up to him.

“Keep them. We’ll be fine.”

“Cassian! I know you and I know the state you come back to me in and I won’t have it! Take the bag.”

“Stop worrying for a second, will you?” he mumbled, still a few steps in front of her.

“Cassian!” she whisper-shouted after him, but the stubborn ass was still walking. “They said they’ll take the tracker bracelet off if I want to.”

Cassian stopped and turned around to look at her. His eyes darted from her face to her hand and Cora couldn’t understand why, for the briefest moment, he seemed scared.

“They said that I’m free to go anytime I want. They’ll take it off and I’ll be free to go.”

“Why didn’t you take it off?”

“I don’t know. Figured it might help me come back home if I ever get lost.”

“So you’re...”

“I’m not leaving. I’ll be here when you come back.”

Cassian nodded, but didn’t say anything, instead he turned around and walked into the ship.

“Cassian, the bag!” she yelled after him, still holding it in her hand. She heard him yell after the others to hurry and Jyn walked into the ship, leaving only Cora and K2 at the bottom of the ramp.

“Why does she get a blaster and I don’t?” K asked, in a tone that probably meant he was pretty offended.

“I don’t know, but I think you and I both should complain to Draven.”

“Maybe.”

“K!” Cassian shouted from the inside of the ship, sounding more and more impatient.

“Take this,” she said, handing the bag to the droid. “Please take good care of it and make sure it doesn’t get lost. I packed some things that might save your lives in case of an emergency. Please look after it.”

The droid looked at it. “Even mine?”

Cora’s words died in her throat, and for a couple of seconds she could do nothing but stare at the black, expressionless face. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, and she could feel her heart aching.

“Don’t worry about it. Cassian will take care of me.” He walked up the ramp, towards and increasingly impatient Cassian, holding the bag in his hand. “I’ll look after it, Doctor Enoch.”

“Good luck!” she yelled after them, as the door closed behind him.

Cora stood in the same spot until Lewella came by her side, staring at the patch of sky where she saw Cassian’s ship disappear. She felt lost, like the whole world had shifted under her feet and she couldn’t regain her balance.

“Are you alright?” her friend asked, rubbing soothing circles over her back, as if she was trying to pull her out of her numb state. Cora nodded, afraid that if she’d open her mouth, she’d start bawling. “Let’s go get something to eat,” she said, guiding her back into the building.

*

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