As the trip lengthened, Cassian made his way back up to the cockpit, and Rowan had settled in with her old friends, chatting and joking, denying power to the anxiety that churned deep within them. Rowan felt as if a shade had been pulled over her eyes, some veil through which the world seemed foggy and undefined, as her thoughts crept forth and her throat began to tighten. She did her best to swallow past the lump, but it occupied her thoughts, clawing at her attempts to reason through the battle to come. She could finally take it no longer.
Muttering something about wondering how close they were to their destination, she excused herself from the group with a friendly "see you later", and she hurried up the ladder to the cockpit. The hum of the engine brought a haze of anticipation to the small space, seemingly enlarged by the wide and clear windows that reflected the great magnitude of space. Cassian turned at her entrance, and she smiled quickly in greeting. He nodded in return, his expression grave.
"Okay," Bohdi said, breaking the silence that hung between them. "We're coming in." The words were a heavy breath, falling from his lips. He was acknowledged with silence. "There's a planet-wide defensive shield with a single main entry gate. This shuttle should be equipped with an access code that allows us through," he elaborated.
"Assuming," K added, his tone warning against untimely hope, "the Empire hasn't logged it as overdue."
Bohdi could not see the heads that whipped toward him as he nodded, confirming K's statement. "Or stolen," he agreed, and a heaviness blanketed the cockpit.
"And if they have?" Jyn asked, still settled in the corner where Rowan had previously seen her.
They waited with bated breath for the answer, and Bohdi's eyes widened as he himself contemplated the dangers for what seemed the first time.
"Then they shut the gate," he said simply, anxiety glazing his expression, "and we're all annihilated in the cold, dark vacuum of space."
Cassian's and Rowan's eyes met, wide and scared.
"Not me." K-2 suddenly broke the deadweight silence, shattering the crushing fear of death that rose to life. They all looked to him, confused and bemused. "I can survive in space," he explained. Rowan raised her eyebrows, withholding laughter.
Bohdi shook his head in amused disbelief as he reached for the mic to radio Gate Control. "Okay," he breathed. "Here it goes." His face became stony, marred by memories of times past as he repeated the words and patterns that had marked themselves upon his mind. "Cargo shuttle SW-0608, requesting a landing pad."
The voice on the other end crackled to life. "Cargo shuttle SW-0608, you're not listed on the arrival schedule."
"Acknowledged, Gate Control," he returned, and Rowan was surprised at the steadiness of his mind and his voice, "We were rerouted from Eadu Flight Station. Transmitting clearance code now."
"Transmitting," K repeated, flipping switches.
The cockpit held its breath, and Rowan pulled her eyes from the blue-green planet swirling below to meet Cassian's. She held his gaze, throwing all her fears and doubts into it, calming the tremors in her fingers, just as he did his.
"Cargo shuttle SW-0608," came the voice, "you are cleared for entry."
With a great heave, there was a collective exhale, and for the first time that day, Rowan saw Cassian smile brilliantly. It touched his eyes, and they sparkled with life and hope. Breathless, Rowan found herself beaming just as brightly, a reflection of his joy. Bohdi laughed and pumped his fist in the air, breathing deeply for the first time in quite a while, he realized.
"Impressive," was K's only comment, though the droid did sound truly impressed.
Jyn smiled. "I'll tell the others." And she disappeared down the ladder and into the midst of the men waiting below. At the thought of them, Rowan's doubts returned. The plan had been hastily concocted, and she could only hope that, despite its hurried nature, it would work, and they would soon find themselves back here, gathered in the cockpit, victory in their hands.
She forced away the dream as they sunk through the atmosphere, passing slowly, painstakingly, through the blue haze that marked the defensive shield of the planet, its deadly force held back by large walls lowered into it by the circular gate control that hovered high above the planet's surface. As the planet itself finally became fully visible beneath the shield, Rowan held back a gasp.
It truly was beautiful. A small planet, the surface consisted mostly of the sea, interspersed here and there with little islands that shone with white sands, the dazzling glimmer broken only by lush green undergrowth and what Rowan could only assume to be a derivative of palm trees. She had heard Scarif described as something of a paradise before, but she had not anticipated the profound beauty spread out before her.
Rowan started as the speaker buzzed to life once again, and the flight controller's voice burst through. "SW-0608 clear for landing pad nine. Acknowledge, please."
Bohdi fumbled with the mic, still grinning. "SW-0608 proceeding to LP9 as instructed."
Silence fell, and Rowan returned to her perusal of the planet below. The splendor of it was marred only by the large tower that protruded from the surface, high and sharp, an edifice worthy of the Empire's reign of terror. Buffeted by sandy winds that rolled off of the seas, its color, once the shocking black common to the Empire, had lost its intensity and taken on a tanned, faded grayish hue. Taken aback by its enormity, just as she was, Cassian peered forward through the glass.
"The main building down there," he gestured, speaking to Bohdi, "what is it?"
"That's the citadel tower. They keep all the Imperial structural archives in there," he explained, then paused and added, "If the plans are anywhere, they'll be there."
Cassian nodded, factoring the information into his previous assumptions.
"The dish at the top- what's it for?"
Rowan followed his finger, finally seeing the source of the perceived sharpness of the structure. It was a massive satellite dish perched precariously atop the thin tower. She knit her brows together in concern.
"I guess it takes a lot of signals to send those data files out," Bohdi mused.
"Landing track engaged," K interrupted, before they had time to contemplate what the satellite dish meant for their plans.
"Landing track locked," Bohdi answered, and the question that hung in the air was lost.
Cassian straightened and met Rowan's eyes. They lingered there for a moment, and Rowan felt the ball building in her throat as she strained desperately and hopelessly against the fate that pulled them onward into danger and the future, longing to stay here, with him, safe. She read sorrow in his eyes, too, and it made her own hurt all the more.
"Let's go," he said finally, with a struggling voice, and she nodded, resigned, following him down the ladder and back into the cramped belly of the ship.
She jostled into Cassian as her feet met the ship's floor and the flight became rocky with the descent, and he steadied her as he spoke to the men.
"We're landing," he told them. "We're coming in."
Uneasy silence settled on them as the fears they had so long ignored returned with a vengeance and burst through their barricades of resolution. Rowan attempted to ignore her own creeping dread as she strapped on what small weapons she could afford to carry, standing side by side with Cassian, forcing herself to face the wall and not the men she feared they had led to their deaths. But suddenly Jyn's voice broke through the quiet, and Rowan turned, finding herself listening with a growing awe to the words that fell from the woman's lips.
"Saw Gererra," the sounds trembled in Jyn's throat, struggling against the despair that hung in the ship, but they strengthened as she went on. "Saw Gererra used to say that one fighter with a sharp stick and nothing left to lose can take the day." She waited till the words sunk into the hearts of her listeners before she continued. "They have no idea we're coming. They have no reason to expect us. If we can make it to the ground, we'll take the next chance," she exhaled heavily, knowing full well the unlikelihood of an overabundance of chances. "And the next. And on and on until we win… or the chances are spent." She dared not name what such a phrase meant. "The Death Star plans are down there. Cassian, K-2, Rowan, and I will find them," her voice trembled. "We'll find a way to find them."
Silence fell, but its tone had changed, lightened, and together, the men rose, grinning with that mad gleam of the condemned, ready with a vengeance for what lay ahead. Rowan looked to Cassian, found herself itching to move forward. Cassian's eyes glinted.
"Melshi, Pao, Baze, Chirrut, you'll take main squad, move east and get wide of the ship," he commanded. "Find a position between here and the tower. Once you get to the best spot, light the place up." Cassian paused, met Rowan's eyes and smirked before turning back to the men and taking in slowly each of their expressions. "Make ten men feel like a hundred," he finished.
Baze laughed, deep and booming. "Alright!" he roared.
Rowan beamed, eyes flashing, as Cassian continued, almost as an afterthought, "and keep those Troopers away from us."
"What should I do?"
The voice came from the ladder. During Jyn's speech to the men, Bohdi had crept down from the cockpit, intrigued and excited, anticipation building in him just as it did in the others.
Cassian placed a hand on the pilot's shoulder, looking him deep in the eyes with an urgency. "Keep the engine running. You're our only way out of here."
- - -
"Cargo shuttle SW-0608, prepare to receive inspection team."
The voice came from above, and Rowan froze, crouched low beside Cassian, straining her ears to hear the words that passed above their heads. They'd gathered together in the ship's hold, preparing their ambush. Rowan fixed her gaze on the steel flooring, her eyes glazed by the monotony, attention focused on Bohdi's voice, filtered down through the small opening in the ship's belly just above.
"Hey," he greeted the officers entering, "you're probably looking for a manifest."
Rowan's grip on her blaster tightened; unconsciously, she began to clench and unclench her other fist, fingernails biting into the flesh of her palms. Cassian glanced down at the slight movement, knit his eyebrows in concern, placed a calloused hand on hers, stilling the nervous movements. Startled, she raised her eyes and met his. His expression read compassion, and his eyes urged calm. She nodded, understanding, and he suddenly smiled, a sheepish grin that lifted a corner of his lips as he squeezed her fist once more and let his hand fall to his side. She cocked her head and grinned in turn, looking back to the floor, waiting the signal of the officers' descent.
"It's just down here," came Bohdi's voice, and Baze, waiting just beneath the open hole, watching Bohdi for his signal, gave them a small thumbs up.
They leapt into action, Rowan leveling her blaster at the space where she expected the first Trooper to appear. Beside her, Cassian stiffened, his eyes hardening, and they waited, acutely aware of the footsteps that moved slowly, agonizingly slowly, across the floor above till they halted. Baze hurried to the side, allowing room for Bohdi, who led the way, dropping down through the hole first and moving quickly out of the way of the descending officers. As they dropped, one by one, through the floor, chaos ensued.
Unable to use blasters, the men resorted to fists, smacking the blasters out of the grips of the unprepared troopers, tackling them to the ground with a series of grunts and groans. Rowan found herself pushed to the side till the Imperial officer, spotting her in an open space, near the exit, leapt toward her. With an alarmed look, she slipped her blaster back into its holster and steadied her stance, throwing her fist into his jaw, sending his head flying to the side, where he was greeted with the butt of Cassian's blaster. He crumpled under the blow to his neck, and Rowan looked up to see that the tussle had ended, the men breathing heavily and staring down at the unconscious forms of the Stormtroopers, flight assistant, and officer.
She herself was breathing hard, and a sudden stinging from her fist brought her attention back to the world about her. She glanced down to see she was bleeding, a small trickle slipping from her knuckle, where the skin had been broken by her ring, the sword given her by Morpheus. As she watched the crimson stream wind its way down her finger, she found herself steadied, as if the one blow had brought iron to her core. Despite herself, she smiled.
"Alright," she exhaled. "Let's get this show on the road."
The Stormtrooper armor was as bulky and clumsy as she remembered, and she found herself smirking with Debnoli as he helped her into it.
"Any more comfortable?" he joked with her, and she raised her eyebrows, chuckling.
"What do you think?" The question was rhetorical, her tone light and jocular. Debnoli laughed and handed her her helmet.
"Don't trip." He smirked and gestured to the boots, large and awkward.
Rowan's eyes danced with amusement as she glanced down to them, shaking her head in incredulity at the sheer inefficiency of the armor. "No promises, mate," she sighed, "No promises."
Silence fell over the two, till Rowan looked up, finding that Melshi, BoShek, and Garouf had joined her and Debnoli. A sudden, strange sorrow filled her, as if she felt this would be the last time they would meet, and her eyes stung, throat clogging. She read the same sorrow in their eyes, too, and wondered at the premonition, hoping beyond hope that it would be false.
"Good luck," Melshi suddenly said, breaking the silence, his kind words taking a mournful undertone.
The others nodded in agreement, and she smiled, placing a hand on Melshi's and Debnoli's shoulders, the two on the outskirts of the half circle before her, wishing she could embrace them all.
"Thank you," she smiled, but it was soft, merely a raised corner of her lips. She paused, her hands falling from their shoulders as she saw Cassian, Jyn, and K moving to the exit, looking back hesitantly toward her. "I'll see y'all soon," she whispered, but there was a lie in it. She knew it, and so did they, but they did not question it. They had accepted their fate, and she hers, and so there was a peace as she stepped away, meeting Cassian's eyes before she raised the helmet handed to her by Debnoli above her head and lowered it slowly, sucking in the last breath of fresh air she would have before she was entombed in the suffocating dark of the Stormtrooper helmet. Steeling herself, adrenaline coursing through her, she followed Cassian, Jyn, and K-2 into the glaring sunlight of Scarif.
- - -
Luke paced the floor of Romulus' ship, breath coming in short, hard gasps. Of course she had gotten herself involved in the Rebellion, and of course she had somehow managed to find the son of Kronos and befriend him. Of course. He should have expected nothing less from his sister. In their days on the streets, moving from shelter to shelter, she was the one that had gotten into the most trouble, and he the one that had saved her, over and over again, and though he had not regretted it for one moment, he feared he would be too late this time, and the fear drove him mad till he could no longer sit still. His thoughts spiraled, his heart raced, and his eyes seemed dazed and confused as his brain festered with trembling anxieties.
The ship could not move fast enough.
Clover perched on the bench opposite his young charge, watching his frantic movements from afar, the same concern he had worn on the trip to Yavin 4 still plastered over the satyr's face. He did not regret helping Luke to look for his sister, nor did he regret involving himself in the danger he could practically feel lurking beneath their feet, barely detected. He could only anticipate that, soon, the rug would be pulled from beneath them, and they would find themselves tumbling head over heels into some new intrigue. The mention of the son of Kronos had put Clover on edge; it had put them all on edge, and all his thoughts led to it.
"We're coming in." The voice was Morpheus, and Luke started forward, leaping to the cockpit and peering between the two of them, straining to catch a glimpse of the planet below.
His heart bottomed out at the sight, and he lost his balance, gripping hold of Morpheus' chair for support. The planet below was a war-zone. Everywhere he looked, explosions rocked the surface in maddening displays of red-hot flames. Troops of various colors ran helter-skelter upon the beaches of the island, firing blasters left and right at unnamed opponents. And then his eyes caught hold of the defense shield, its blue glow threatening their hope. His heart sunk as he watched gate control suddenly begin to raise its barriers. With each second, hope was lost.
"Go, go, go," he urged, gesturing wildly at the shield.
But Romulus was already on it, and he slammed the acceleration forward. The ship jumped to movement as the rest of the rebel fleet appeared behind them, pulling out of lightspeed. Luke flew backwards, skidding across the floor of the ship despite Clover's attempts to catch him. He came to a slow stop against the back wall, and shook his head, clearing it. He met Clover's compassionate eyes above and his own steeled.
"We need to gear up," he told the satyr, and his friend nodded, his own expression hardening to match his charge's.
Leaping to his feet, Luke threw himself toward the duffel Maz had loaded their old ship with, filled with as many weapons as they'd need, as if she'd anticipated a situation of this nature. Vigor renewed, his old exhaustion and fear replaced with an energy and anticipation he could remember from his days at Camp Half-Blood during those invigorating games of capture the flag, though never before had his blood pumped so forcefully in his veins. Beside him, Clover seemed less enthusiastic, simply glancing up once or twice to take in Luke's expression. But the boy moved quickly, and finished arming before Clover had even decided which weapon to take, now hurrying back toward the cockpit.
"Land near the fighting," he told Romulus. "She'll be there if anywhere."
Gravely, Romulus nodded. "And if she's not?"
Luke's eyes hardened and he inclined his head in understanding, eyes fixed on the fighting below as it grew ever closer. He turned back to the duffel, and rummaged quickly through it till he found what he sought, a pair of walkie-talkies that had obviously seen better days, but still functioned well enough. He strode back to the cockpit and handed one to Morpheus, deciding not to disturb the werewolf's concentrated efforts.
"If she's not, I'll contact you on that. Stay in range if you can. If not, I'll update you when you are." He swallowed heavily; as they drew closer to the fight below, he could hear the screams, see the expressions of the men's faces as blaster bullets tore them apart, and his heart sunk with dread that his sister might be among them.
With bated breath, he returned to the body of the ship, waiting side by side with Clover before the door that would grant them entrance to the raging battle below. Time seemed to slow, sound fade, as Luke clenched and unclenched his fists, desperate to be set loose from this metal cage. He turned to see Clover's face, pinched with concern, but eyes flashing with adrenaline.
Suddenly, Luke's heart slowed, and he remembered all the satyr had done for him in the days before, remembered the endless kindnesses, the fatherly care, and he smiled.
"Thank you," he mumbled, and Clover looked up, surprised and confused, till he read Luke's expression, and understood.
"Don't mention it, kid," he told him, and looked back to the doors, Luke following suit. A breath later, Romulus' voice came from the cockpit.
"Time to go!" he shouted, and the door at the side of the ship flung open with a bang, revealing churning, muddy beach just below, the ship hovering.
With a roaring laugh, Clover leapt forward, and Luke followed, his knees almost buckling as he hit the ground with a splash and a sucking noise. Behind him, the ship's door slammed closed, and Romulus and Morpheus rose back into the harsh sunlight of the planet. Courage returned, Luke forced his legs forward through the mud and the saltwater that stung his eyes, his attention laser-focused solely now upon his sister and the satyr before him that cut a line easily through the churning seas.
