"In a kinder universe she would have walked away from Scarif. I cannot imagine who she would have become, but I think she would have been extraordinary."
-From the personal files of Mon Mothma.
The Death Star loomed above Scarif, a monolith testament to the power of the Empire, threatening the planet below with its mighty shadow, and with the shield-gate gone, there was nothing to stop its power. But to spite the tyranny set before them, the crew of Rogue One – each of them, one and all played their part; the plans were torn from the hands of those that created it and fought so desperately to protect it, and in the coming months, they would be used to destroy the super-weapon. But it was not without great cost. Many brave soldiers of the Rebellion lay lifeless on the beaches, and good friends. They all knew the cost, and even if it meant death, they dared the Empire. It was a victory, though bitter.
Neither of them knew what it was like: Cassian Andor, who served with the Rebellion for countless years, won battles for them – small, insignificant triumphs in the grander scheme of things. And Jyn Erso, inducted into the ranks of Saw's own rebels, knew only the disruption, the side of the war that threw wrenches into the gears, stopping progress momentarily.
But this, they felt, was greater - grander than anything either of them had ever done. The stolen plans changed everything. The forceful nature of the Rebellion, finally taking action, sparked hope. That was what dealt the true blow to the Empire, snatching away their greatest weapon of all: Fear.
It was done. The plans had been transmitted, and there both Jyn and Cassian stood, at the pinnacle of the Imperial base. Their breath had been stolen away, and their bodies had been worn, bloodied, and beaten to hell, but none of that mattered. They got farther than any of them ever would have dreamed. They completed the mission.
Jyn looked to Cassian, who still held his blaster at the ready, leaning wearily with one shoulder against a wall. A smile of relief was exchanged, as if speaking unspoken words of congratulations. But for a moment, her attention was drawn to Krennic, who lay sprawled out on the spire. That relief quickly changed to fury as all that man had done to her family left the floodgate, and she lunged, desperate to maul him, not caring whether he was dead or not. Her fists thirsted for the flesh of his face; just to strike him once, and then again, and again. For her mother, Lyra, the woman he murdered. For her father, Galen, the man he had stolen from her.
But a hand reached out and grabbed her arm, denying her the senseless vengeance, pulling her away from the director.
"Hey, hey," Cassian voice rasped out to her, but not without sympathy. "Leave him."
It was over. He was beaten.
She was still transfixed, her eyes focused on the director's body, the feeling in her gut tightening at the pure thought of him. But Cassian's voice was like a light in the void, easing her away from the darkness. And after all these years of imagining the horrible things she would do to him if she ever saw his face again, Jyn let revenge go. Let the bastard rot. Let him remember, for what little time he has left, who he was beaten by.
Jyn, her breaths still steadying, tore her gaze from Krennic, and focused on Cassian. A friend that had been shot immediately eclipsed an enemy that had been shot, and she moved to his side, wrapping an arm of hers around him, and hoisting his about her, easing him away from where he was leaning.
For the moment, they looked to the sky and witnessed the Empire's greatest accomplishment, and wondered if it was the end - if the Empire would have the audacity to destroy their own data archives. But they were extreme – to have the will to construct a weapon like that must be the same will to use it. But beyond that, past the shadows of the moon-like sphere, in the stars, they saw the streams of red and green in the stars. The fleet was still there. They had held the line until the very bitter end, to unsure victory. And for all their wrongs, they had proved themselves not to be cowards.
"Do you think anyone's listening?" Cassian's voice sounded again.
Jyn feigned a smile. "I do," she said, "Someone's out there."
For the moment, that was what gave them hope – the fuel to keep moving, the fact that somewhere up there, the Alliance fleet heard their call, and was already moving to strike the Empire. At this moment, they forgot about the weapon that imperiled them both. Even if the battle-station unleashed its full might, not even that could stop them. It might silence them, but their song had already been sung, and there was no stopping a melody as powerful as hope.
She helped him to the lift, and the doors slid shut after them. There was nothing but static on the comms, nothing from Chirrut and Baze, not even from Bodhi. It was just dead silence. Jyn's eyes rose to look at Cassian, perhaps to find some sort of comfort, but found that he was already looking at her. He gave her a soft nod.
It was things like this that he knew all too well. They were gone.
But the look in Jyn's eyes - she grasped the situation perfectly, and almost a little too well. For the first time, it wasn't anger, grief, or that irritating stubbornness Cassian saw in her. For the first time, he saw fear – the same fear that he'd seen in Leo, a young pilot he'd pulled from the wreckage of an X-wing fighter, eight years ago with the Rebel Alliance.
She wasn't ready to die.
Even as a thief and a soldier, she still had dreams of her future: to one day put everything behind her, start living a normal life, not one on the run. Maybe even have children. She wasn't ready to die.
He just did a better job of hiding it. So many years of coming so close to losing his life, Cassian had grown numb to the idea that there was the chance that he'd be killed any time he stepped out into the galaxy, but this wasn't something that was to be second-guessed. This was a sentence. There wasn't any running from this one.
Perhaps if they made it to the ground, they would get one last glimpse of the sun, of the sky, of the stars beyond, a reminder of life and everything that they had done this for: freedom, peace – anything that wasn't a reminder of the Imperial banner.
The blast door slid open, and they emerged from the turbolift. The walk seemed longer now, the pain beginning to set in. They hadn't noticed it before, having been driven by adrenaline half the time. Cassian's wound was hurting, but they went as far as their legs would take them across the smoking battlefield, where both Alliance and Imperial bodies alike were strewn.
Chirrut would have offered them a prayer, Jyn thought, something like that.
A final peace, which was more than either of them could ask for. But what they instead asked for was that it was swift - that the end wouldn't be painful. Like going to sleep and never waking.
They looked to the sky just as the focusing dish of the weapon illuminated with a pale green light, in time to see an emerald beam blaze down from the atmosphere, roaring through the air, seeming to burn through particle it touched. It scored the greatest height of the tower, only confirming Krennic's fate, and in the distant waters of the planet's ocean, it touched down, igniting the very surface with an echoing boom.
They thought that it would have been louder and more aggressive, for a planet killer. The bright yellow light of the explosion began to expand, growing and growing, as if it would never yield until the entire planet was enveloped.
Their story had run its course, and now they reached the end.
The edge of the beach was the furthest that they could go. Cassian withdrew from Jyn, and sat down in the sand, a hand pressed to his side, numbing the pain of the blaster-burn. He almost laughed at his instincts: Preservation until the end, apparently.
Jyn knelt down beside him, her gaze ever on the growing light on the horizon, as if she couldn't take her eyes off of it. She was just imagining what it would be like. But then she turned towards Cassian, and it was sorrow that was written on her face. Again, she was wishing that it had never come to this - that she had never dragged him along on her foolhardy mission. But as difficult a thing as it was, she was happy to not be alone.
Even as the blast grew nearer, Cassian was collected as ever, his will as immovable as stone. He would not give death the satisfaction of breaking him now. And that gave Jyn comfort: even if he was fearful on the inside, he hadn't shown it. Instead, he'd been the first one to speak.
"Your father would've been proud of you, Jyn."
She smiled, albeit weakly, and took up his hand. Would he have been? Or would he have reprimanded her for dying? Maybe there was a Force. Maybe he was there, waiting, somehow watching all of this transpire. Maybe she would join him soon.
Or maybe this would all end in darkness.
She found herself in Cassian's arms the next moment, clinging to him for dear life, the embrace of a rebel soldier whom she'd once hated, the final comfort that she would ever have. This is it, she thought, this is really it.
It was getting closer and the rumbling felt as though it would drown out their thoughts, but then came a familiar sound, faint, and nearly drowned out - a voice that was calm, but spoken with a hint of a sardonic mannerism. It was… recognizable, but in a way that was much different from any other voice, such as that it resonated with an almost metallic nature.
"Hug later, escape now!"
What they saw, they thought for certain was a final, desperate cry of their imagination for a last moment of peace, for stood on the ramp of an Imperial shuttle was K-2SO, beckoning to them with one of his lanky arms.
It couldn't be true. Any moment, and the apparition would vanish – and they'd be dead.
"We don't have all day, you know!" he shouted, leaping down awkwardly from the ramp, his long legs carrying him swiftly towards them. Reaching out with both servos, he grabbed their arms and pulled them back towards the vessel, urging their legs to move faster than was intended.
Jyn looked at the steel hand wrapped around her bicep.
It was no dream.
Just about dragging the both of them onto the shuttle, K-2 smacked the control panel, closing the ramp behind them.
The rumbling was getting louder, fierce enough to rattle teeth.
The shuttle lifted off the ground and began the upward climb, as fast as it would go, pushing the thrusters to their limit. The fire of the weapon's explosion licked at the aft of the ship, but still the little vessel strained to match its speed, stubborn enough to keep going until the engines were drained of power. At the peak of its boost, the shuttle took off, jumping to hyperspace in a streak of blue.
Jyn and Cassian sat on the floor of the passenger compartment, still attempting to comprehend what just happened. Were they just rescued from death? Or had they died, and this was their subconscious trying to continue on?
But before either of them could ask, Cassian felt a large, blunt object nudge his shoulder, snapping him out of his dazed state. "Hey," a gruff voice said, "You with us?"
"Leave them be, Baze," spoke a softer, kinder voice, "Time is what they need most."
In unison, the sources of the two voices came into focus. Seated along the walls, were both of the Guardians of the Whills: Chirrut, a broad smile on his dusted face, his staff laid out over his lap, and Baze, still inspecting them with a heavy, furrowed brow. The two of them seemed as worn as Jyn and Cassian, but underneath the stained skin and dirtied clothes, their spirits had stayed resilient and unbroken. They were alive. But if they were alive, did that mean-
"How are they?" Bodhi's voice came through the radio.
"Alive," said Baze, grinning for the first time, "And still in shock, too."
Cassian was already finding his footing, as if he was denying the very shock that had addled his mind.
"Easy, Cassian," K-2 said, surprisingly soothing for his reputation, almost ushering the captain to a seat. "We have everything under control."
"But how-?" Jyn was the next to speak up this time, her voice wavering, still trying to understand how any of this was possible. Her voice trailed off, unable to finish the thought. She'd already believed that they were gone, and that she would be right behind.
"It is a long story," Chirrut answered, "And one that is not meant for today. Today, we rest."
Jyn almost laughed in disbelief. After all of that, everything they had been through, and everything the Empire had thrown at them, they were here. All of them. Here. Alive.
"Then radio command," Cassian said, mustering as much command as his body would allow him. He stood tall in the cabin, rejuvenated, as if by a new sense of purpose. "Tell them…
Tell them we're coming home."
Writer's Notes
I need to paint a picture for you.
Monday, December 26th. (No, I didn't see it day one, shush.) When I exited that theatre, I knew this was something I had to write.
I've had Star Wars as a part of my life for half of it, and when I was introduced to everyone in Rogue One, I couldn't part with them after so short a time, after being used to having characters stick around for three films.
I took my time writing this, not because I couldn't think of anything, but because I wanted to do it justice. And a month later, here it is.
Another thing I should mention is that this is a 'part one'. The rest of these chapters, as you should rightly guess, will follow the events of the other episodes.
Guest-starring these guys.