Rowan grew increasingly pale as they drew ever nearer to Earth, now supported by Cassian as he helped her to the bench at the center of the U-Wing and rested her weakening frame against himself and the seat, his brow furrowed, his heart pounding. The world was beginning to swim about her eyes, her vision darkening ever so slightly with each jostle of the ship till she forced them closed, a grimace disfiguring her face. Breathless, Cassian pulled her close, squeezing her arm, looking to Romulus, who hovered over her now, his own face pale.

"What happens to you?" Cassian asked, feeling a strong admiration for the werewolf, for the solemn gravity of his presence, harrowed but hopeful, recognizing in him the regret he knew in himself.

Romulus' eyes fell to Cassian's. "I will face death, too," he explained, "but not yet. Returning to Earth simply strips me of my immortality. Rowan does not have that protection. She must face death now."

Cassian's eyes hardened. "What do we do?"

"Zeus can pardon her offenses, should he choose to do so," Romulus answered. "Until then, we'll need ambrosia." He looked Cassian up and down. "You'll need some too," he noted, and Cassian suddenly remembered his ribs. In the breathless relief of escaping impending doom and then the profound dread of Rowan's fate, he'd forgotten the grating pain in his side. At the memory, he winced, and wished the werewolf hadn't reminded him. He glanced up, nodding in understanding.

"We don't know what we're getting into," Morpheus interrupted from the cockpit, standing and moving back toward them, leaving Clover in control of the ship, a decision that Jyn, from the corner, didn't think to be so wise. She'd been silent the entire trip, steadily taking in the world about her that seemed at once familiar and strange, as if from some distant memory. She'd met Luke's eyes only once, and then had glanced quickly away, but now watched him, seated beside his sister, eyes scanning Romulus' expression. She was drawn to him somehow, in the same way that she was drawn to the white-haired, robed figure now advancing toward the bench, though his eyes took in the faces of each and every passenger on the ship, lingering curiously upon Bohdi's face.

The pilot had grown somewhat pale, and kept shaking his head, as if to rid himself of a nagging thought, and Jyn's eyes narrowed in concern. She moved closer to him, placing a warm, comforting hand upon his shoulder, looking into his face. He flashed her a smile, but it was uncertain, dazed, not at all convincing. She'd known Bor Gullet to cause madness, but had never seen it set in this late. To her left, she glanced over to see Baze, a single hand resting protectively upon the frame of K-2, his eyes, old and wise, taking in the proceedings meditatively. Resting beside him, a tension in his figure, Chirrut's ears perked at the sound of Morpheus' voice.

"Be prepared for anything," the god told them, focusing his gaze upon Rowan and Cassian. He remembered them upon Coruscant, and it pained him to think that they had suffered so much in such a short period. He read it in Cassian's eyes, old despite his youth, and in Rowan's features, worn and hardened. He wished then that he had not given them the location of the agent in the Ring of Kafrene, that he'd taken them in, cared for them the way he ought to have been able to care for his own daughter. But that time had been lost, and despite the wounds Rowan and Cassian had suffered, he knew that it was the price they would have had to pay to save the lives of millions.

Luke met the god's eyes and nodded simply in response, standing and unsheathing Backbiter, placing himself somewhere between the cockpit, where he could catch a glimpse of Earth, and the ship's door, where he could leap out if necessary. He kept his eyes fixed on the world outside, gaze boring through the glass at the head of the ship, at the lights that streaked past, waiting with bated breath for Earth to come within full view. He glanced back to Rowan; she'd sunk even farther into the arms of Cassian. In a horrific way, Luke realized the exile burning like poison in her veins was measuring the distance to Earth for him, and he pulled his eyes away from the sight, back to the window.

They pulled out of lightspeed abruptly, and Luke stumbled forward into Romulus, who had placed himself, leaning a little, beside the wall, his eyes squeezed tight against some pounding headache, his hand gripping firmly his sword of Imperial Gold, though Luke noticed some strength had left his fingers, and the sword hung a little looser than he knew the werewolf intended. He glanced about the ship, taking in its inhabitants. The effects of the exile setting in ruled both Rowan and Romulus out as fighters. With Clover manning the ship, they lost yet another, and with Cassian's broken ribs, he feared they were down four. Morpheus' eyes were grave. He'd realized it, too.

"That's not good." The comment came from the cockpit, and Luke risked a step toward Clover, who'd spoken, eyes transfixed on the planet below. Morpheus had paled at the sight, and even Luke seemed to lose a little color.

Below them, not an inch of Earth's surface was visible, hidden by massive, swirling, angry clouds that churned and roiled, a harsh black beneath the sun's rays. Luke looked to Morpheus, and the god turned back to the passengers.

"Ouranos' attack has begun," Morpheus explained. Romulus' eyes flickered open, and he stumbled to the cockpit, leaning heavily against the seats, peering through the glass.

"What does that mean?" The question came from behind Luke, and he turned, momentarily confused by the unfamiliar voice, before he recognized Jyn, who'd stood, hand placed firmly upon her blaster, her eyes searching his. His brow furrowed in something akin to confusion as he registered her presence, taking her in, he believed, for the first time as something more than a companion of his sister; he fumbled with his thoughts.

Behind him, it was Romulus that answered, taking Luke's silence for ignorance.

"It means we're flying blind," the werewolf told her, looking back over his shoulder and meeting her eyes. "When we break through the atmosphere, we'll be going at too high of a velocity for Ouranos' forces to do much harm to us, but when we land, we'll need to be prepared. We don't know what the surface looks like." He dared not entertain the dreaded possibility that they had no allies left to greet them, but by the looks of the storm clouds below, he could hope, in an ironic way, that they were about to descend into some great battle. With a glance to Rowan, he hoped Zeus himself was there. He forced his eyes back to the rest of the ship, holding each of their gazes, his own heavy. "I suggest you prepare your weapons."

Wordlessly, they each followed his example, even Cassian, who shifted Rowan's weight from his arms, lowering her into the seat as he stood, pulling from his boot a Celestial Bronze knife, from his holster a well-worn blaster. Luke nodded at this, stepping a little to the side to allow the titan's son room, eyeing him with something like respect, a shared understanding. Cassian himself felt it, like an undercurrent between them, the burden of Kronos, and Cassian's eyes darkened a little at the remembrance.

About them, the others readied themselves as much as they could, and with a twinge of uncertainty, Cassian noted that none of their weapons would be at all potent against the monsters of Earth. Though he was happy they were here, some remnant of the familiar, he hoped he had not led them into danger. Their escape from Scarif, their great urgency to return to Earth, had not allowed a moment's time to get them home. Not, he realized with a start, that the Rebellion was any of their homes. There was something comforting about the revelation; they were, in a way, without pasts. The future was theirs to make.

The thoughts were knocked from his mind as the ship lurched forward, jerking in small gasps toward the planet's atmosphere. The toll lightspeed had taken upon the ship's engines was catching up to them, but Clover seemed undaunted, letting out a small growl as he slammed his fist into the dashboard, sending up sparks.

"Let's go!" he roared, and the ship seemed to explode to life, now barreling straight toward Earth's atmosphere, leaving Cassian with no time to think on the world he was soon to be immersed in. Meeting Luke's eyes, finding comfort in the strange familiarity of them, he steadied himself, swallowing past the pain in his ribs, and readied his knife and blaster.

Behind them, still processing the world about her, Jyn watched the wall of cloud grow steadily closer till it consumed all her vision, and she waited, cringing, for an impact she knew would not come. A bead of sweat trickled down her spine as she felt the ship beginning to heat up. She looked to Luke, confused, but his expression of hardened determination had not changed. Evidently, this was to be expected with re-entry into Earth's atmosphere, but that did not mitigate the horror that spasmed across her face when she noticed that the ship itself had caught fire. It streamed past the front window as they picked up speed, moving faster and faster and faster, the light of the flames spanning the ship's exterior and the shadow of the clouds below adding to the dizzying impression.

A groan came from her right, and she turned, jerking her eyes away from the madness through the window. The dim lights of the ship's interior, flickering with the effort of re-entry, illuminated Rowan's features, contorted in pain and pale with effort. She was feverish, her cheeks seeming to suddenly have lost most of their fullness, now sunken and hollow, her brow beaded in sweat, eyes pinched shut against some ravaging fire in her veins. Jyn looked to Luke, who'd almost fallen from his feet to Rowan's side, placing a shaking hand upon her brow, examining her face with a practiced, and fearful eye. Standing over them, Cassian swayed, gripping his side, his own expression tight with anxiety.

"She's burning up." Luke looked to Romulus, and the werewolf nodded gravely.

"Until we can find ambrosia, she's on her own." His eyes were cold and hard, fear hidden deep within the depths. Cassian met the werewolf's gaze, a resolution building in his own.

"Then we find ambrosia," he said simply. The declaration left no room for the anxiety churning between each and every one of them, not solely about Rowan's condition, for the lingering fear of the state of the planet beneath them hovered there, too.

Clover's voice came from the cockpit, strained and fiery. "Mates, you might want to hold onto something," he called, and they looked to the satyr, now seeing his struggle with the steering mechanisms as he did his best to wrest them into cooperation, sweat pouring from his brow, his expression a concentrated glare at the fuel light upon the dashboard and the swirling clouds of the planet below.

"Help him," Luke suddenly commanded from behind Cassian, straightening from his sister's side. "If there are survivors, they'll recognize me more than you," the demigod elaborated at Cassian's frown. "You can pilot these things much better than I, and you're wounded."

Cassian wrestled with his hesitancy for a moment, before finally wrenching his eyes from Rowan's form, where they'd fallen, now moving to the cockpit, a slight limp to his gait. He wished they'd stop reminding him of his ribs, which seemed to hurt tenfold with every mention. As he slid into the seat at the cockpit, he glanced back to the others gathered there, and swallowed, promising himself that they'd make it out of this alive, that all of them would make it out alive. He resisted the urge to let his gaze fall to Rowan, resisted the nagging realization of the heavy weight of the amulet about his neck.

"Alright," he sighed, and Clover glanced up momentarily, nodding his greeting, before letting his bloodshot eyes fall back to the planet.

"There's no landing pattern we need to follow," Clover told him, forcing the words between gritted teeth, and Cassian nodded his response, steeling himself for the turbulent barreling through the cloud cover beneath them. They came fast, and he fought against the growing wince in his muscles, keeping his eyes wide and intent on the planet, steadying himself despite the wild rattling of the ship, blocking out any doubts about the shape of the ship for fear they might come true and leave them stranded in space.

The clouds grew closer and closer, and Cassian's heart began to pound harder and harder, sweat pouring from him and coating his limbs, and just as they reached it, he wondered what, exactly, it would be like to burst through the powers of the protogenos of the sky, but the thought was smashed into nonexistence even as they smashed through the clouds like a bullet, searing a burning, hot line through the black, and the engines gave out with an explosion that plunged the inside of the ship into a confused and maddening darkness, illuminated only by the flames still rippling off the sides of the ship past the window.

In a jerking shift of motion, Clover and Cassian found themselves pulling back against the acceleration levers, Clover now letting out a stream of what could only be curses in some ancient language, their faces contorted in pain, fear, and horror when the ship would not respond to their commands.

"We're coming in hot!" Cassian roared to the back, then whipped about, searching with red eyes for Bohdi, the pilot's figure curled upon the floor of the ship, seemingly unaware of the world about him, his eyes lost in a fog. "Bohdi! I need you!"

At his name, the pilot looked up, shot to his feet, and hurried to the cockpit, slipping through the shivering, shaking ship, grabbing hold of what he could to steady his frantic approach. Not much attention was paid to him, for Luke and Romulus now stood, side-by-side before the window, muscles straining against the ship's wild movements so that they might counter whatever attack they experienced without hesitation. Behind them, Jyn held her blaster readied beside Baze and Chirrut, the companions side-by-side. Chirrut only inclined his ear toward Bohdi when he began to move, but suddenly leapt backward at the grating sound of K-2's form sliding across the floor, planting his staff into the mangled pile, anchoring it against the ground. As they'd slammed into the clouds, Rowan had let out a cry, harsh and loud, and convulsed to the floor, where Morpheus now knelt beside her, steadying her and himself with the bench, fumbling with an amulet about his neck, muttering incantations beneath his breath.

"Can you fix it?" Cassian shouted as Bohdi neared, his voice breaking high and loud over the rattling clatter of the ship.

Bohdi fumbled with his answer. "I- I can try!" he returned, slipping past Cassian, who was struggling to raise himself from the seat, grabbing hold of what was nearest to pull himself up. As he straightened, Bohdi fell into the seat and his hands began to fly about the dashboard, muttering something Clover, beside him, could barely catch, his ears ringing with the cacophony of noise, recognizing only the words "back-up engine somewhere".

Cassian stumbled back to the ship's belly, eyes fixed upon Rowan's form, writhing beneath the cares of Morpheus, tunnel-vision guiding his steps till blinding light flooded the ship, and he faltered, falling back a step or so, steadied by the wall he smacked against, squeezing his eyes closed to fight against the searing, pale light. All about him, the others seemed to do the same, working hard to regain their composure, hissing in pain. He breathed heavily, forced himself to squint till he adjusted; he resumed his efforts, for Rowan had grown paler in the new light, heavy, dark lines beneath her eyes, her cheeks nearly transparent. She was holding tight her marked palm to her chest, the fist balled, nails drawing blood from her skin.

But once again, he was thrown off his feet, now falling forward into Morpheus with a curse as pain exploded from his ribs and the god struggled to catch him, leaving for a moment his attentions to Rowan. As Cassian lay, panting, supported just barely by the god, he realized with growing anticipation that the reason for his fall was that the ship had stopped suddenly and was now hovering high above the Earth. As the back-up engines started, now running quietly and gently, the blue lights of the ship soft against the pale light from outside, Cassian felt as if he'd fallen into a wholly different world. All seemed still and silent; even Rowan's protestations against the poison in her veins seemed muted, and Cassian forced himself to breathe deep, looking slowly up to where Luke peered outside the window, pulling himself from where he'd fallen against the door.

"Clover," the demigod said in a barely trembling voice, "Open the door."

Without a second thought, the satyr obeyed, and the door to the ship's belly slid open, and Cassian struggled to his feet at the sight outdoors. They hovered high in the air; far, far below, an ocean glittered, cold and turbulent, but at their level, hundreds upon thousands of strange, ethereal figures were engaged in a combat upon thin air, the battle stretching through the atmosphere as far as the eye could see, blanketed high above the surface.