A.N. Well guess what. I'm back! And it's a Sunday, so I'm posting on schedule, just months and months and MONTHS too late. A thousand apologies! Life... well, life got busy. But I am back and here for the long haul so here we go again.
As always, thank you ever so much for your comments and feedback! They keep me motivated and it's wonderful to hear that others share my deep love for these characters. Happy reading!
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The ship settles to the ground and Cassian can hear people crying in relief. A moment later, he realizes that everyone in the ship is about to race for the doors, including the civilians crammed into the cockpit… and he's sitting on the floor. It's unlikely he'll remain unscathed in their blind rush for safety, for an escape, and it's too late for him to even contemplate moving. But as the horde of people surge forward, bottlenecking at the door from the cockpit to the hallway, two figures stand above him, unmoving guardians. They gently steer people through the door and away from him.
What did I ever do to deserve friends like these? He thinks the answer is nothing, he has not done enough, but Baze and Chirrut apparently disagree.
As people empty from the cockpit, leaving just Cassian, Baze, Chirrut, Solo and Chewbacca, the two pilots finally rise from their chairs.
"I'd better get out there and make sure nobody messes up my ship," Solo mutters, casting a quick look at Cassian before disappearing into the hallway. "Chewie! You coming?" his voice echoes back.
The Wookie moves to follow his partner, moaning softly as he walks by.
Cassian smiles. "Thanks, Chewbacca. You too."
Chirrut follows the Wookie out of the cockpit and Cassian shifts slightly, preparing to follow.
"And just where do you think you are going?" Baze's deep voice demands.
Blinking in surprise—Cassian had honestly thought the man had followed Chirrut out, but apparently his brain is still playing tricks on him—he replies, "There are a lot of people who need help back there." He jerks his head towards the depths of the Falcon.
"That there are," Baze agrees, "but you, Little Brother, are staying here. You've done enough; let others take it from here."
Cassian opens his mouth to argue, but Baze cuts him off with a resolute, "No." The older man frowns down at him, concern clear in his eyes, before pointing at him, "You," then pointing at the floor, "Stay," he orders firmly.
If Cassian didn't feel like his ability to stand was questionable, he might have argued. But since he's pretty sure he wouldn't make it vertical if he tried, he instead chooses to sit back and be amused by the fact that he's being ordered like some tauntaun.
Baze nods. "As soon as some people have cleared out, I'll send someone for you," he promises, then exits, leaving Cassian alone.
xxXxx
True to Yevez's prediction, the moment the ramp hits the ground of Echo Base, people in varying states of panic and suffering flood down it. Some cling to one another, some rely on others to help them move, but all show signs of battle scars… the scars of survivors. Some visible, some physical, some hidden in their gazes. Eyes flick wildly, some stare dully.
The first wave is met by rebels, who sweep forward and welcome the civilians with open arms and voices, gently guiding them towards their new quarters. Most who make it down the ramp in the first few minutes are well enough to go without immediate medical attention, but Jyn halts one duo carrying a man between them. She checks the man's pulse, opens his eyelids to unresponsive pupils, assesses his gray pallor and red-soaked shirt, and quickly makes a decision.
"Hey, you two!" she yells at two nearby rebels. "Grab a stretcher and help this man to the med bay!"
She turns back to the two people holding the injured man upright. "We'll take it from here. I have to ask that you let us escort him while you follow those people," she gestures to the horde filing out of the hangar, headed towards storeroom-turned-living quarters. "We're swamped and there's just not enough room for you in med bay."
One of the injured man's companions meets her gaze with wide eyes. "No, please, please we have to stay with him!" he exclaims.
"There's just not enough room," she informs him regretfully.
"No, you don't understand!" the other companion cries, panic lacing her voice. "Our parents didn't… we're all each other has left, please, you can't take him from us…"
The desperation and obvious love in both the brother and sister's voice strikes a chord with Jyn. She can't help but think that, if their roles were reversed, if it were she struggling to keep a loved one, a sibling alive, she would not want to be separated… too afraid they'd slip from her fingertips and die while she was not with them.
Her mind flashes to a time when she was struggling to keep someone alive, to keep Cassian alive. In the belly of a cargo shuttle filled with the rattle of dying breaths and the scent of too much blood, she'd allowed their separation to occur. Too shell shocked, too new to their tentative friendship, evolved from reluctant teammates to indispensable comrades. If that happened now? She would raise hell and fire if someone tried to separate them.
She relents. "Stay with him. But keep out of everyone's way and if a single medic says you need to leave, then leave that instant. Or I'll come find you and kick you out into the snow," she threatens. "We're trying to help as many of you as we can; we don't need people mucking about and making it more difficult for everyone."
The relief and gratitude in both of their eyes is enough to make it worth it, but she dearly hopes they take her words to heart and don't cause any trouble.
Task accomplished, she continues through the sea of people to the ramp of the Falcon, making her way into the ship. She immediately turns right, goes past the corridor to the cockpit and heads for the main living area. She hears banging below her feet and is momentarily confused, before she realizes that people have even scrambled into the smuggling compartments and are now desperately trying to get out. But with so many people still in the ship, there's not enough floor space for the hatches to open yet. Though she wants to help them, she leaves the task for someone else. Instead, she works her way farther into the ship, eyes roving and constantly assessing each person as she moves along, all the while searching for three familiar faces. Faces she doesn't see anywhere.
The interior of the ship accosts her with noise and the stench of panic, fear and blood. Despite the number of people that have already exited the ship, inside it is still crowded. She marvels at just how many people there still are on board, strewn about the halls and rooms, unable—or unwilling—to move. She can only imagine what it looked like, what it felt like when everyone was still on board. How closely packed some areas were, how claustrophobic it must have been. She can't exactly blame the people who fled the confining space at their first chance.
Picking her way carefully though the twisted limbs, oozing wounds and broken spirits, she crouches beside a man leaning against the wall, clutching at his stomach, blood running down the side of his face.
"Welcome to Echo Base," she greets, trying to elicit a response from his glazed eyes. "My name's Jyn. Can you tell me yours?"
The man's eyes give no indication that he's heard. Giving up on shaking him from his stupor, Jyn prods at the laceration on his head, before gently moving the man's hands from his stomach. She's surprised to find no blood there, except for a small amount transferred from the man's head wound. She gently palpates the man's torso, apologizing for the intrusion under her breath, and when he reacts immediately by gasping, she frowns. Raising his shirt just enough to glimpse the skin over his stomach, she inhales sharply when she sees dark black bruising.
"I need a stretcher!" she yells out loudly, hoping to grab someone's attention. "This person needs to go to med bay!"
Two people quickly answer her call and load the man onto a stretcher, before carting him away.
Jyn moves on to another patient, then another… then another. Solo's loud voice catches her attention at one point—though she doesn't see him—but never the three quiet voices her ears so desperately long to hear.
When she's almost finished in the main common area, she hears a commotion behind her and turns to see an injured woman pushing a young rebel away, shouting that she needs to get out.
Jyn rushes to the rebel's aid. "I'll take it from here," she tells the young Ensign, who nods with frightened eyes and scurries away.
The distressed woman tries to rise from the floor, but Jyn places a restraining hand on her shoulder. A sizeable gash to her forehead is the likely reason she hasn't been trouble before now—she'd probably been unconscious. But what worries Jyn more is the fact that there's a piece of what looks to be glass embedded in the woman's arm, near the crook of her elbow, and Jyn doesn't want her to move, lest she cause the class to shift and nick the artery she knows is in that area.
"N-n-no, I hafta, I hafta," the woman protests, struggling against her, "I hafta go! I hafta get out!"
"I understand, but you can't go anywhere—" she tries to explain, only to receive a thump from a flailing arm in gratitude.
"I can and I will!" the woman exclaims, shifting forward onto her knees, oblivious to the peril she's putting herself in.
With the rate at which the situation is deteriorating and spiraling out of control, Jyn does the only thing she can think of to snap the woman out of her frenzy: she surprises her. By slapping her. Hard. And yelling.
"Listen up, halfwit!" she growls, putting her face close to the woman's in order to focus the patient's entire attention on her. "If you move, you are very likely going to slice open an artery in your arm and bleed to death before the medics of the Alliance can help you! And then all of this will have been for nothing! You'll have survived an Imperial bombardment only to be cut down by your own stupidity! So unless you want to go down in history with that as the action people remember you by, shut up, pay attention and sit down!"
The woman's mouth snaps shut, her eyes clear with surprise, sheepishness and a hint of gratitude, and she slowly shifts back to lean against the wall.
So of course, that's when the glass nicks her artery and blood spurts out, striking Jyn on the face. She flinches in surprise, before leaping forward and clamping her hand on the wound. "Kriff!"
Her hand is absolutely useless against an arterial bleed. Blood effortlessly squeezes out from between her fingers, mocking her attempt to save the woman's life. "I need help! I need a medic!"
When no one comes running, she makes a snap decision and carefully pulls the glass from the woman's arm. It's already done as much damage as it can, and the only way she can possibly save her life is through a desperate gamble. She dearly hopes it pays off.
The woman begins breathing rapidly, shifting in a misguided effort to alleviate the pain.
"Hold bloody still!" Jyn orders, but to no avail. The woman's panicking.
Jyn tries to send her fingers searching in the wound—cringing at the thought that they are not sterilized, but she figures it's better to stop the bleeding now and deal with infection later, than let the patient bleed out—but she's moving too much. "Bloody stop!" she commands, wincing at her word choice.
Then, suddenly, there's a presence beside her and someone throws their weight across the patient's torso, hands clamping down on the woman's upper arm, ceasing her movement.
Seizing the moment, Jyn desperately prods the gaping gash, grasping for the nicked artery. There! Her fingers close around the small tear and pinch. Immediately, the flow of blood stops.
It's only then that she realizes the woman is screaming. Absolutely screaming. At the top of her lungs, her haunting cries echoing throughout the ship. Moments later, the person who came to aid her—who currently holds the patient's arm and body down—slams her elbow into the woman's temple and all goes quiet as she is knocked unconscious.
Jyn meets eyes with the person who came to assist her. She's another civilian from Andelm IV, Jyn thinks, given her clothing and the fact that Jyn doesn't recognize her. When Jyn's gaze travels to the woman's face, she sees her blue eyes have a steely calm to them, but with an undercurrent of grief and rage. Given the circumstances, Jyn's fairly confident that the rage is directed at the Empire, not at Jyn herself.
Her assessment seems confirmed when the woman offers her a small shrug and the ghost of a smile. "I figured she'd prefer a headache later than the excruciating pain she's experiencing right now," she offers by way of explanation. "Plus," she adds, the smile slipping from her face, "no one needed to listen to that after what we've gone through."
Jyn nods, appreciating the woman's candor and quick thinking. A flash of red on the woman's sleeve catches her attention. "Are you injured?" Jyn asks, eyeing the bloodstain.
The blue-eyed woman glances down at her own arm and starts in surprise. "Oh, quite honestly I'd forgotten about that. Damn blasters. They do pack a punch." She shakes her head. "It's nothing but a scratch. I can wait," she assures Jyn, eyeing the carnage all around them.
"Be sure to get it looked at as soon as you can. Blaster burns have a nasty habit of getting infected," Jyn warns her, before a commotion catches her attention and she glances to the doorway, where she sees two people hurrying through, stretcher in hand.
"No medics?" Jyn demands.
"They're all busy!" one of the stretcher-bearers explains, tone frazzled.
Their response doesn't surprise Jyn. How could they NOT be busy with so many people to look after?
While they shift the patient onto the stretcher, Jyn keeps her fingers firmly clamped on the artery. It's only when the stretcher-bearers prepare to lift the stretcher and leave that everyone realizes the situation. The patient's artery needs to remain clamped, but the two rebels can't both carry the stretcher and keep the artery closed, and Jyn can't leave; there's too much still to do here.
"I'll do it," the blue-eyed woman who'd come to Jyn's aid declares. "I can see you're needed here," she nods at Jyn, "and I might as well make myself as useful as I can. It's the least I can do after…" she trails off for a moment, the first crack in her otherwise cool and collected exterior, before she continues, "it's the least I can do after what you've done for us."
They switch positions swiftly, but even so, a small amount of blood shoots out in the brief moment between the exchange of hands. Then the trio carefully makes their way out of the ship, leaving Jyn amidst a room with blood covered walls and a floor littered with stains, all evidence of the price payed by those who dare to stand up to the Empire. But without a doubt, Jyn knows it's worth it.
Turning her back to the door, she makes her way farther into the ship, searching for more people who need her help.
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A.N.2. Yeah, I've done some iffy things here... Baze and Chirrut probably should have noticed that Cassian is absolutely not okay—really, it's kind of a disservice to them, me making them oblivious to it, or at least, not as aware of it as they perhaps should be—but it's for plot reasons and a really important scene between Jyn and Cassian so… But also, Cassian is very good at hiding things—it's literally his job—so I choose to believe that in this case, he's just that good. Until next time!