so like this chapter was supposed to cover more, but idk i like cliffhangers? and also idk but it's a bit short again and kinda covers a lot of time but like i like it *shrugs* idk if it's good or not but eh
Chapter 7
Jyn doesn't even know Cassian's leaving until he's already gone.
In hindsight, it makes sense. He's heading out on a mission of high importance, deep undercover in the heart of the Empire, and he has to leave as soon as he can. He hardly even knows her. He has no reason to waste time telling her goodbye.
(he might not come back)
She can't quite understand why it hurts so much to discover that he left.
He was always going to, anyway.
[=|=]
She spends the week after the Coruscant mission learning from an Intelligence agent-Lana, her name is, or something like that. Jyn doesn't really care. The lessons are all familiar to her, anyway; she learned to withstand torture under Saw, and resisting interrogation is the same technique, as least to her. She's more interested in the schematics of Imperial bases and star destroyers; all bases follow the same base structure, and the star destroyers are all built to the same blueprint, making it easy to memorize their layouts. That kind of information could come in very handy on missions-whether she's acting on orders from the Alliance or once again fighting her own private war against the Empire.
Still, the familiar lessons far outnumber the new information, and spending the greater part of every day being lectured gets old fast. So it's a relief when Lana gets sent out on a mission, giving Jyn a few days' break.
She's wandering the base with nothing much to do-Lyra is busy doing whatever it is she does, and Jyn hasn't made very many friends yet-when she ends up in the hangar, near where Cassian's U-wing is usually parked.
That's when she sees it's gone.
She spends the rest of the day carefully slicing her way into Draven's logs, which is how she discovers that Cassian left the morning after they returned on a long-term deep-cover mission, and he didn't say goodbye.
(She covers up the irrational stab of betrayal with a sharp, cutting anger that she knows is even more irrational than the hurt is. But if she has to be irrational about Cassian Andor, anger is a much safer thing to feel. It's easy to be angry. It raises fewer questions with answers she doesn't want to know.)
[=|=]
She's sent on missions; first, she always has a partner, but it doesn't take long to progress to the point where Draven trusts her enough to let her work alone. She prefers working alone-she's better without people tying her down.
(Sometimes, on the long flights through hyperspace, she wonders about Cassian.)
She sees Lyra less and less often as Draven gives her more missions, and the few conversations they do have turn strained very quickly. Lyra doesn't like to talk about what she does, and Jyn can't tell her mother about the missions. Draven was very firm about confidentiality.
And while it hurts to see the one constant relationship in her life slowly dissolve, Jyn does her best to ignore it. She has a cause now, and a purpose, and both of those are more important than relationships.
(she tells herself that, and hopes that one day it'll be enough)
The distance between herself and Lyra doesn't bother her.
(lyra was always going to leave her, anyway-everyone does)
The fact that she has no friends among others near her age doesn't bother her.
(she's gotten very good at hiding the hurt)
The fact that very few of the Rebels even know of her existence doesn't bother her.
(she misses the feeling of belonging she hasn't felt since saw left)
Really, she enjoys the isolation Intelligence work forces on her. And if she occasionally bemoans the lack of fellowship between her comrades and herself, well, it's not like it really hurts.
(why can't she stop thinking about cassian?)
And, anyway, being on Yavin 4 only reminds her of her isolation-whether she likes the solitude or not-and being in Intelligence means she spends more time offworld than she does in the base. And she likes it that way.
She starts picking up intel from drop points deep inside Imperial territory after about a year, and she suspects-although she doesn't dare ask, because Draven never did discover she'd hacked his files and she'd rather he doesn't in the future-that she's picking up what Cassian drops.
She confirms it by leaving behind a small scrap of paper with one word written on it: Andor?
The next time she checks the drop point, there's the usual datacard, and accompanying it the same piece of paper with one more word on it.
Yes.
The confirmation reassures her that he's still alive, and she doesn't respond further; however, the next time, Cassian's left another note.
Who is this?
She debates with herself before responding with just two words: Liana Hallick.
They exchange no further communication, but the consistent drops continue; she's often tempted to read the intel she transports, but the knowledge of what Draven would do if he found out stops her.
(For the moment, at least.)
And then, two and a half years after Jyn joined the Alliance-the longest time she's spent in one place, as one person, since Saw-she returns from a short undercover mission in the Mid Rim (it was really a waste of her time, but the Alliance is perpetually short on Intelligence agents, and there aren't any new agents who could use the practice) to see a familiar U-wing parked in the hangar, Cassian Andor leaning wearily against the side of the ship, still dressed in a crisp Imperial uniform, his face drawn and haggard. His eyes fill with a strange hardness at the sight of her, and he pushes away from the side of his ship to walk towards her.
Jyn's exhausted from the mission, still reeling from the side trip she'd been ordered to make before going undercover, and she wants nothing more than to hug Lyra and fall into bebd and sleep for a week.
Cassian doesn't give her that option.
Instead, he stops in front of her-cutting her off, keeping her from slipping away from him-and opens his mouth.
And Jyn's world turns upside-down.
[=|=]
The first time Cassian speaks with the informant, he learns the man's name.
It hadn't taken too much maneuvering to get Lieutenant Willix assigned to Eadu, where the development of the DS-1 project is based. It takes some time, but after a couple months of firmly establishing Willix's character and position at the base Cassian gets an opportunity to slip his informant a note.
That first, all-too-brief conversation is when Cassian learns that his informant is none other than Galen Erso, the Empire's most brilliant scientist and engineer.
Over the next few months, Cassian finds himself beginning to genuinely like Galen, for all that the brilliant man has the tendency to start rambling on about things far above anyone else's understanding. There's a sorrow deep in the older man's eyes, a clear indicator that he's suffered losses just as great or greater than Cassian's own, and despite the fact that neither of them speak of the pain they carry, it acts as a connection between the two of them.
Galen talks about what he's building in the vaguest possible terms, preferring to spend more time discussing other important bits of information he gleans from Orson Krennic; when Cassian attempts to ask the engineer exactly why he's holding so much back, Galen just shakes his head.
"Nothing is for certain, yet," he says softly. "But I am working from the inside on this project. The impact DS-1 will have on the galaxy is incomprehensible; I would not terrify the Rebellion with such a horror without giving them hope as well, and that hope is not yet secured. You and I both know the Alliance waits, trembling, for an excuse to scatter like mice."
The statement is very true, and Cassian has to agree with the logic.
(he'd never say it aloud, but even he, a man of action, would probably run from the truth of this weapon)
Galen drops more hints about the weapon, about what it is, but after just over two years he still refuses to give more details. When pressed, Galen will only reiterate the same reason he first used.
"Time is getting short, Galen," Cassian finally snaps out late one evening, pacing around the perimeter of Galen's private room-the only room on Eadu without cameras. "I don't know how much longer I'll have before I have to be 'reassigned'. Suspicions are starting to grow, and I've heard the start of rumors."
There's the sound of a cupboard opening, and when Cassian turns, he sees Galen filling two glasses with Corellian whiskey. He hands Cassian one, and the spy takes it without comment.
"A toast," Galen begins quietly, "to always running out of time."
Cassian laughs, bitter and harsh and twisted, surprising himself-and makes the toast.
They drink in silence, for a moment; Galen refills the glasses once, then again, and then a third time, before he speaks. "The girl with you on Coruscant, two years ago," he starts. "The one who attacked the stormtroopers. I assume she was with the Alliance-is she still alive? Do you know?"
There's something in his voice, almost desperate, and Cassian feels his eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Yes, as of a few months ago she was the one picking up the intel drops I've made." The bit of paper with the name Liana Hallick inscribed on it flashes through his mind for a brief second, accompanied by the image of those fiery green eyes. He shakes the image away; he opens his mouth, closes it, then sighs and asks the question. "Why?"
Galen smiles, soft and sad. "She has her mother's eyes." There's a pause while the man takes a long swallow of whiskey and Cassian absorbs that information.
Liana does have her mother's eyes, that's true-but how does Galen Erso of all people know that?
The scientist stares off into the distance, a wistful look in his eyes. "She's grown up so much," he murmurs, an ache in his voice. "So different from my little Stardust. I never expected to see her again-and yet, of all the places in the galaxy that she could be, she was there with you. Lyra always put such faith in the Force; that is the only possible explanation. The Force must favor me and my sacrifice, to allow me to see my daughter once more."
The air rushes from Cassian's lungs in a rush, like a punch to the gut. Daughter.
He thinks back on what he knows about Galen Erso-a wife named Lyra and a daughter named Jyn, presumed to be killed by death troopers on Lah'mu.
Now he knows better.
They must've made it off Lah'mu somehow, and spent their lives hopping around the galaxy under various aliases. He'd noticed Liana's unusual aptitude for, well, everything that made a good spy-she must've been trained from a young age.
No, not Liana. Jyn.
"Cassian?"
He blinks, looks back at Galen to see him staring.
"I take it that you didn't know that particular piece of information," the scientist says wryly. "I hope I didn't just doom the two most important people in my life…"
"No," Cassian manages. "I don't-think so. I'll have to discuss this with Draven. I think my time here is coming to an end."
"I will be sad to see you go," Galen says. "I have enjoyed our conversations."
"As have I." He pauses. "I should go. I don't want to look too suspicious."
Galen nods. "Yes, of course, forgive me. Goodnight, Cassian."
"Goodnight, Galen."
Barely a week later, Willix is reassigned once again.
He doesn't tell Galen goodbye.
[=|=]
Cassian lands the U-wing and powers the ship off, then lowers the ramp and climbs out. He's beyond exhausted and wants nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep for a week, but he has Draven to debrief yet and some very worrying decisions to come to. He sighs and leans against the side of his ship, rubbing at his eyes.
That's when he sees Liana-no, Jyn. That's when he sees Jyn Erso striding across the hangar in civilian clothes, fatigue in every movement.
(Something flutters at the sight. He pushes it-whatever it is-away irritably.)
Before he can think, he's pushing away from the U-wing and cutting across her path; she comes to a halt before him and lifts tired green eyes to his own.
He sucks in a deep breath.
"Hello, Jyn."