PART 2

7 BBY

The Brothers

Chapter 6

7 BBY — IMPERIAL OUTPOST, Gargon, Mandalorian space

Cassian straightened his jacket. Then he adjusted his hat. He looked smart — even if the outfit gave him just a little nausea. In the five months he had been on this assignment he had never gotten used to seeing himself in the mirror wearing an Imperial uniform. Cassian brushed his trimmed mustache, and walked out of his quarters and down stark hallways of the transport ship toward the command center.

The mustache was another new addition for this assignment. He had to age himself just a little for this role, he was claiming he was twenty-two and he was only nineteen, but without the mustache he still looked sixteen. He suspected the Commander could tell but the Commander liked him so much he didn't really care.

Commander Dawes was the mark that had brought Cassian all the way to an undercover mission inside the Empire. Dawes was a man who had been wronged by the Empire, when his son was killed on a routine training exercise which had ended with Darth Vader's Inquisators using his son's TIE squad for target practice. Dawes found that his calls for justice fell on deaf ears, or at least fell on the ears of men that would not go asking Darth Vader for justice.

Dawes was an old school military commander, from the former Republic, and he had seen his rank and importance fall every year since the Republic had become the Empire. His opinions were unpopular because he applied logic to their mission planning. He did not question any superiors, but he questioned his fellow commanders relentlessly. He was a good soldier, but he found that he was not fitting in with the Imperial state of mind.

So he was banished to the Outer Rim, running transport missions, and at first he had no idea what he was working on. Yet, being an intelligent man he figured out within about two weeks what supplies were passing through his transports.

Hondo and Cassian figured out Dawes pretty quickly as well. He ran his missions like clockwork, and Hondo found he was more dependable than all of the other transport officers combined. The Imperial supply chains also noticed Dawes' efficiency. Within a year, due to his unquestionable performance and superior leadership qualities among the outer rim commanders, he was promoted to one of the sector commanders. And when he asked for a junior officer to help him out about a year after he started in the Outer Rim, the Empire granted his request. And Cassian was ready.

After Hondo told him of Dawes and the story of Dawes' son, Cassian immediately saw an opening. When Cassian showed Draven the easy insertion point as Dawes' junior officer, Draven pushed the proposal up the chain to General Dodanna — and it was approved by the Leadership Council.

Cassian walked into the Imperial cargo ship command center and the two troopers saluted him, then he found Commander Dawes silhouetted by the sunrise overseeing the final loads of Phobium.

"Commander, you don't have to be here for the loading, I can handle it. You can come back to take us out to the hyperspace lanes," Cassian said kindly.

Dawes turned around and chuckled making deep lines in his long face, and his blue eyes almost disappeared behind bushy blonde eyebrows, "Come now my boy, you may be here as my replacement but I need to keep busy if I'm going to keep my brain going after they kick me out."

Cassian allowed a half smile to move his mustache up on one side, "There's no way I could ever replace you, sir."

Dawes rolled his eyes, "Please — I expected the Empire to send me the most dis-interested of the new generation that they could find. Instead they've sent me an active, highly intelligent, and driven young man, who far out-classes this assignment. Of course, you will replace me. And I'll bet you'll be the one to be there when they finish the project," Dawes sighed. Then his brows came together, "But you couldn't know all of that. So how did they ever convince you to come all the way out here for your first assignment?"

Cassian had replaced a recently disappeared junior officer that was similar in appearance, except the nose and a little less height — which was easily fixed in the records. He had shown some intelligence, and he had been terribly disappointed on receiving his assignment — until the disappointing day he was killed by the Rebellion on Taris.

Cassian smiled again, "Commander I grew up out here. This is home for me."

Dawes chuckled, "I suppose a boy from the Outer Rim might find all of this emptiness peaceful. But I'm a Core man, and I miss the busy skies of Coruscant."

Cassian still dreamed of his idyllic home estate on Fest where he spent his younger years.

"I traveled extensively with my father as a child, and I'd been to Coruscant. Beautiful planet, especially at night with the lights, and I enjoyed it while at the Academy. But coming home was something that both me and my father celebrated every time we returned," Cassian could see the same wistful look in Dawes eyes.

"My son loved Coruscant, as well. He was so excited when he got into the Academy, that he would be able to stay there, and have his own flat, and explore the districts surrounding the school. He loved every minute of that experience."

Cassian stood next to Dawes at attention with his hands clasped behind him. He found it was best to let Dawes work through his memories at his own pace. It helped him to feel that Cassian was listening more than anyone else would. And that usually resulted in Dawes taking liberties and giving Cassian responsibility that someone in his position should never have.

Dawes turned to smile sadly at Cassian, "Why don't you take the ship out? First time for everything, eh?"

Cassian's half smile returned. It worked every time.

"Yes, sir!" Cassian turned to the navigator. "To Rampart Station, please!"

"Yes, sir!" The navigator replied.

Cassian smiled to himself and nodded to Dawes. He was so close he could taste it. After their stop at Rampart Station, they would be inspected and then sent on — to the Project.

Mandalorian Space — Near Concord Dawn

Din's understanding of Mandalorian history was rudimentary at best. Sarin felt the Empire's influence over the culture of Mandalore, and its education system in particular, was unacceptable. Sarin took it upon himself to educate his children and Foundlings. So none of them went to the Academy, or even to Sundari, for any extended period of time. However, as a Warrior, Din knew very well that history had shown that the Protectors had always been a complicated issue.

The Protectors had worshiped and died for the Duchess when she was alive. Her peaceful ways had spoken to their interpretation of the Creed, and their ancient connection to her Clan Kryze sealed their loyalty.

After the death of the Duchess and the chaos of Maul, the Protectors retreated to the third moon of Concord Dawn until Bo-Katan brought the Republic and removed Maul and the Shadow Collective. The Protectors respected the strength of the Republic as well as the Empire that followed, and initially, so did Bo-Katan.

Din was not clear on how the relationship between Bo-Katan and the Empire soured. Din was a young, lower ranking officer who did not sit on the councils that made strategic decisions and was not privy to the inner politics of the situation. Din never cared much about politics — or history, really — and actually went out of his way to stay out of the political discussions both with his Clan and with his commanders. He was never comfortable when people asked his opinion. He had no problem answering questions of what was right, but when asked about what was the politically prudent — Din would not respond.

Din only knew that by around 15 BBY Bo-Katan was deposed. And then the Protectors under the leadership of Fenn Rau, decided to support their own survival under the Empire, and Clan Saxon.

Clan Saxon's power grab led Sarin to support Paz's bid to leave the Watch and join Bo-Katan's Night Owls a few years prior. And therefore, Paz did understand the politics, and he and Fenn Rau had a contentious but respectful relationship. They disagreed on much, but each felt that the other at their core believed in the Creed — and in their chosen paths. Paz, however, did not trust all of Rau's men. Paz often monitored their activity. Din was obviously never consulted by Paz for these missions, and he was rarely a part of any action taken on what intelligence was gathered.

Due to all of these facts, Din was therefore quite surprised when suddenly he received a private communication from Paz to expect a transport to a secret location near Concord Dawn. He was told to make excuses to his commander and — not to tell their father.

A ship picked him up on Concordia, and without a word of explanation from the crew, they immediately executed a short hyperspace jump to outside the Concord Dawn system. Din frowned as they neared a large asteroid that had a Mandalorian prison ship on the surface.

The transport ship docked to the top of the prison ship and when the port was pressurized and the door opened, Din climbed down into the dark and slightly out-dated hold. Mandalorian geometric patterns were present even in the welding of the most utilitarian things such as prisons, which created interesting shadow effects in the dim light, but the maintenance of this ship was minimal at best. The edges of the metal were dinged from fights and weapons, and there was creeping rust in most areas that he could see. Din expected the crew found it helpful in creating atmosphere for the prisoners. Paz was standing in front of him and with tense shoulders.

"Come with me," Paz said with more concern than Din expected. He paused for a moment considering what could have upset Paz, and then followed.

Paz led Din toward the interrogation rooms of the prison ship. Din knew the layout well. Paz took Din to one of the observation bays and closed the door behind him. The observation window was opaque and the interrogation room sound was also muted. Paz turned and leaned against the window and crossed his arms. Din stood at attention and waited for an explanation.

"We found them outside the system. Rau has been allowing transports to enter and exit with passcodes from the Empire. We decided to hijack one ship to see if there was any of the purged resources of Mandalore on board, and it was full. We began interrogation to learn about the final destination of the shipment. The older Imperial officer was not breaking under duress, but as soon as we started on his junior officer and let him watch, he began to cave," Paz paused.

Din cocked his head slightly. He saw no flaws in Paz's strategy, he could not comprehend why Paz had gone to such trouble to consult him.

"This morning, when I arrived my men started with a standard repetition of questions, but as they were finishing, the junior officer said a name that he should not know," Paz looked up at Din, "Fulcrum."

Din straightened his head, "Who is Fulcrum?"

Paz nodded, "It is the code name of spies — from the Rebellion."

Din's heart skipped, "Is the spy dead?"

Paz shook his head, "No, but we need you to contact your friend so we can confer with his superiors. This guy is clearly deep undercover, posing as an Imperial Officer on a shipment of Beskar and Phobium. We need to know what to do to save their operation."

Din swallowed a sinking feeling in his gut, "Do you have anything on the spy's identity?"

Paz shook his head, "No, just their service numbers — and images from before my men started interrogation."

Paz tapped his vambrace, and sent the images of the two captured officers to Din's visual display.

Din suddenly took a step back as he felt all breath leave his lungs, "PAZ — the younger officer — that IS my friend —"

"WHAT?" Paz yelled back.

Din lunged for the window controls, pressed the button and the opaque window immediately became clear. A blonde man in his late fifties in a black imperial uniform was huddled in a corner, and he held on his lap the head of a younger officer with a slight build and dark hair. He was in a grey uniform, his jacket unzipped exposing a white undershirt now stained with crimson blood, and his face was misshapen from a savage beating. He wasn't moving.

Din felt severe nausea hit him in the abdomen and rise up to the back of his throat as he swore loudly. Din pushed himself away from the window and started to pace as he took deep breaths. Paz was trying to talk to him but Din couldn't hear him initially as he worked to regain control. Din walked back over to the window and using his visual display he immediately ran a scan on Cassian's vitals.

Cassian was unconscious but stable, it was clear he was concussed, he had multiple fractures of his ribs, jaw, facial bones, and even his wrist and hand. His system was working overtime to compensate for the damage he had suffered. After no more than one or two more sessions and he would go into shock if he did not hemorrhage first.

Din put his hands on the window and leaned on the frame and then exhaled to clear his mind quickly. There was only one way out of this situation.

"I don't know how to contact his superiors, Mandalore was kept outside this mission and the details were 'need to know' only. Obviously his droid is not here," Din looked back at Paz who shook his head.

"We immediately destroyed all of the droids on board," Paz quoted standard procedure.

Din nodded, "Not much of a loss, trust me. So this is what we will do: you will introduce me as 'the closer' to the older officer and leave me in there. I will stall until Cassian recognizes me, and then I will put on enough of a show to get the information we need, and get Cassian out of there."

Paz put a hand on Din's shoulder, "No, we will finish this together."

Cassian coughed and then gasped as his broken ribs shifted and painfully ended his fitful sleep.

"Take slower breaths, son," a voice said, "You're going to be okay. I promise."

Cassian's head was exploding with pain, and he was certain both his jaw and cheek were fractured. He couldn't move, and he couldn't feel his limbs, but he dared to hope that was because he was exhausted, and not due to a broken neck. The way he had hit the wall and fell like dead weight to the floor before losing consciousness he might not have been surprised if he was paralyzed. He tried to follow the voice's instructions but the pain clouded his mind. He tried to open his eyes but the lights were always too bright. He had to give it to the Mandalorians, they were relentless.

"I — can't move," Cassian whispered hoarsely through his swollen lips.

Dawes gave Cassian's shoulder a squeeze, "Don't talk, you're just going to cause yourself more pain. Try to go back to sleep, son. Rest, before they come back in."

Cassian tried to let Dawes' reassuring tones lull him back to a nightmarish, drifting unconsciousness. Despite all that he had been through Cassian could not let go of the dream of a massively successful mission. So he retreated for just a few moments into that fantasy.

He was certain that by the time they had reached their cargo's destination that Dawes would have let Cassian fully inspect the project that was claiming so much Phobium. And then Cassian would have been able to steal a ship and head home. He had been so close.

Cassian could imagine everyone's faces on his return: General Draven's frowning smile, Mon Mothma's thin lipped approval, and he would have sauntered back into the base, once again undamaged due to his invisible armor, and wearing an Imperial officer's uniform.

Instead, less than two days from his goal by his best calculations, they had been boarded in Mandalorian space. At first Cassian thought it was just the Protectors, which Dawes had expected would simply inspect them and leave without a word. But it was not the Protectors, it was another faction, and Cassian guessed they were affiliated with Bo-Katan by their colors and the fact that they did not approve of the Mandalorians aligned with the Empire.

Initially the focus was on Dawes, because they knew that Dawes had the information. But Dawes, with his strong military background, was tougher than he looked, and he showed little weakness in their initial methods. However, recognizing that damaging Dawes too much might not achieve the goal of gaining information, their attention turned to Cassian.

Cassian had been tortured before, but never to this extent, and never this long. He could not be certain how long they had been detained, as he kept sliding in and out of consciousness. But based upon the state of Dawes, and the fact that they had had no food or water, it had to have been about three days straight, possibly longer.

Cassian was bowing to the pain, and in the moment he felt his skull fracture, he realized that both he and Dawes were going to be killed. These Mandalorians had no intention of sending them back to the Empire in a prisoner exchange. The trajectory the interrogators had set was going to end with two bodies.

Cassian decided instantly and reached out desperately, even though he knew it might compromise the entire Rebellion spy network. He could not remember if he had ever told his friend his code name. He did not know his friend's real name. He had no way to know if his friend was connected to these Mandalorians at all.

Cassian was certain they had heard him use the name Fulcrum, and that had kept them away for the longest interval yet. So hope was reborn that he might maintain his record of at least surviving this job, even if he did not escape unscathed. But Mon Mothma was going to kill him.

What am I gonna tell her, Father? This was what she feared. I failed her. She's going to carry this guilt when making decisions from now on. Five damn months of work! Sorry, Father, I'm just…I was so close...

The door swung open and slammed into the wall jarring the prisoners. An enormous heavy armored Mandalorian entered.

"We are the Closers," he said in a rough voice.

Dawes shifted Cassian to the floor and tried to stand with his hands up. "Please, have mercy on the kid, he doesn't know anything, he's too junior to know any mission parameters!"

A leaner — but no less intimidating — Mandalorian went straight for Cassian, but before Dawes could plead with him, the larger Mando grabbed Dawes and threw him on the floor.

With the older officer stunned for a moment, Din knelt down, picked up Cassian and slammed him against the wall. Cassian's ribs sent a shock of pain across his chest. He groaned through gritted teeth as tears ran down into his mustache that was caked with blood.

"It's me," Din whispered for only Cassian's ears, "it's me."

Cassian blinked again at the bright interrogation lights, the larger Warrior was softening up Dawes again, but Cassian worked to focus on the Warrior standing over him. Cassian's entire left side of his face was disfigured, his left eye was almost swollen shut due to his facial fractures, and the eye had a hemorrhage that had covered the entire sclera, but he could see the Mandalorian.

Yes, the helmet, the color, the markings, they were all the right ones. Could it be? Had his desperate plan worked? He had to take a leap of faith. He was out of time.

Cassian nodded.

Din nodded back.

Cassian turned up a half smile on the side of his jaw that was not fractured, and he mumbled in a barely audible hoarse whisper, "Make it… look good…Mando."

Thank you, Father. Thank you.

21 BBY — Fest

Cassian watched his father pacing the wide entry hall of their house. He felt the same tension as his father. Cassian was hiding up at the top of the grand staircase in the shadow of one of the many sculptures on the landing. He knew his father was about to have a very important meeting. Probably the most important meeting of their lives. She had finally agreed to see him. Mon Mothma was coming.

Cassian was five years old, so he did not understand very much, but he knew that he loved Mon Mothma, and that his father cared deeply for her as well. They would both speak of her with smiles on their faces, and they often sent holo-messages to her together.

But since just before they went to Naboo, Mon Mothma had stopped responding to their messages. Cassian knew that his father and Mon Mothma had quarreled over the Republic, and that Lady Mina and her husband were also part of the disagreement. Cassian had begged his father to apologize for making Mon Mothma angry and to ask her to visit. And then, one day ago, she finally agreed to come.

Cassian listened to his father's boot heels striking the stone floor of the hall — tap, tap, tap, tap, scratch — as he turned on his heel to walk the opposite direction. He had paced like this most of the last day. And Cassian also noticed that his father was not overjoyed to get the news that Mon Mothma was coming. He was happy, and he did smile, but there was also sadness in his eyes, and even some pain.

Then, as the sun was getting low in the sky and nearing twilight, Mon Mothma's official transport arrived. Cassian was shocked to see she had intimidating official senatorial guards. They had a transport before and after hers, and they escorted her to the door and stood just outside the house after she entered.

Cassian moved to the top of the staircase, his heart beating out of his chest as she lowered her hood and her red hair gleamed in the chandelier light.

"Lady Mothma!" Cassian cried.

She looked up and smiled at him and raised her arms up. "My beautiful boy!"

Cassian ran down as fast as he could without falling, and then found himself wrapped up in her arms and her heavy silk cloak.

"I missed you," he whispered and tears leaked out of his eyes even though he tried to hide them.

"I've missed you, your father, this house, and I've missed about an inch of growth on you!"

Cassian took one more breath of the scent of her clothing before he stood up and tried to sniff away his tears and look happy again.

Mon Mothma held his eyes with hers, "I'm sorry I was gone for so long. But I'm afraid my time is short and I must talk with your father. Can you sit quietly with us while we discuss some important business?"

Maximillian shifted slightly, "He's too young to worry about these matters —"

"He is your son, and the next generation who will have to make better choices than us if the galaxy is to be saved, Max. He deserves to hear the truth from us," Mon said with quiet intensity.

She stood up and held Cassian's hand in hers, leading him past Max and into the front parlor. The parlor was formal, but warm with medium light stained wood paneling, cushioned couches and seating for eight guests arranged in the center, with large front windows facing the sunset, and walls covered in art, tapestries and holo-images hanging from a picture rail around the square room. Mon Mothma sat Cassian on the most comfortable chair, propped him up with several pillows because his feet did not touch the floor, and then sat gracefully on the couch closest to Cassian.

Maximillian walked in behind them, and then set down the glass of spirits he had been sipping, before he suddenly got down on one knee, and both Cassian and Mon Mothma gasped in surprise.

"My dear Lady Mothma—"

"Max, don't—" Mon said in a low voice.

"I'm afraid you must hear me out, now that you are here, I must be allowed to speak my mind," Max said with a charming smile.

Mon Mothma looked back at Cassian, and then with a sad smile she turned back to Max and nodded.

Max folded his hands together and looked up at Mon Mothma with creased brows. "I must ask your forgiveness, I have betrayed the Republic that you have served and loved for most of your life, and for as long as I have known you. And I know that feels like I betrayed you. But I would not have done it if I did not believe that I could show you that I can help build a better, safer life for the three of us outside the Republic. Away from the Core I can keep you safe, and we can serve the people of this part of the galaxy. Every member of the Separatist movement feels that the corruption that has grown like a cancer inside the Republic has now spread to every agency — including the Jedi. I met Qui-gon Jinn before he died, and even he admitted the Dark Side was overshadowing the Council."

Max reached out to Mon Mothma, and took her right hand, placing a two finger red jeweled ring onto her hand, "Please say you will join our family, and stay here with us. I love you, Lady Mon Mothma."

Mon Mothma had tears streaming down her porcelain face, and swan-like neck.

"Max —" she caressed the jewels on the ring, and then covering his hand with hers, she looked into his eyes and whispered, "you are asking me to abandon my planet, my people, and my family. How can I do that and live with myself?" Her lips trembled. "I love you and Cassian more than life itself, but if I abandon all of my principles, who would I be? I don't know if I could love that person. And could that person love you?" She slipped the ring off under her left hand and removed her right hand from between, then grasped Max's hand in her left folding the ring into his palm.

"I cannot stay, and you know that I'm here to say goodbye," she sobbed.

Cassian could feel a sob coming up from his throat and he jumped from his chair and ran out before it could escape his lips. Both Mon Mothma and Maximillian stood up and called out after him.

"Cassian!"

He ran out to the tree in the back yard, climbing up into the treehouse, he shut all of the windows and the door in the floor to the ladder that was nailed to the tree trunk and then began to sob openly. His wails could be heard across the property.

Mon Mothma turned flashing eyes back to Maximillian, "How do you intend to keep him safe Max? You know that the Geonocians are building Count Dooku an army. You know we are headed for war. Is that what the Separatists really want? You are not a man of war. You are an artist! A philosopher!"

Max looked down at the ring and turned it over and over in his hands, "I'm more than that. I'm a man of peace." He looked back up at her, "But the seeds of war were planted long before this moment, Mon Mothma. The Republic and its centralized power has been taking power from the middle and outer rings for millennia. The systems are oppressed, the businessmen cannot compete with the organized criminal activity and their firepower. And the Republic does nothing to stop it because it does not affect them directly. For generations the oppression has gone unchecked and justice cannot be found but in very rare instances when the Jedi condescend to leave Coruscant! The galaxy is about to burn, Mon. You've been watching this conflict grow since you were a junior Senator. You don't have any obligation to protect us any more. I'm going to keep him safe by fighting for a galaxy which rules by democracy, and freedom."

Max turned away from her sadly and walked back to the main hall. Without turning back he said to her, "I think you should go out and say good bye to him, my Lady. I'll wait upstairs."

Mon Mothma stood up, and walked over to Max, "Look at me," she put a hand up to his soft, trimmed beard as he turned toward her, and she kissed him tenderly, and then deeply, before pulling away.

Max looked down at her, and put the ring back into her palm, before turning and walking up the grand staircase and leaving her alone. She gripped the ring tightly, closing her eyes, slipped the ring into a side pocket, and then turned back to the yard. She crossed the lawn to the treehouse where Cassian's sobs were quieter but still freely flowing. She picked up the train of her gown and flopped it over her left arm, then climbed the ladder to the round door in the floor and knocked.

Cassian stopped sobbing a moment, then quickly opened the door so she would not see him and he moved to the corner of the house and pulled his knees up in front of his face and continued to sniff.

Mon Mothma's slender figure easily fit through the door, but her willowy height barely allowed her to kneel inside the treehouse. She crawled over to Cassian and sat next to him taking him into her arms and his head onto her chest.

"I love you, Cassian," she whispered. "I will miss you."

Cassian cried harder and she ran her fingers through his hair. "Your father will need you. You will have to be brave."

Cassian nodded but could not speak.

Mon Mothma reached into her pocket, "But if you ever need me, if you or your father are in trouble, I want you to take this, and turn it on."

Mon Mothma took out a small black box, no bigger than Cassian's hand, with a small red light on it, and a long thin strap. She hung the transponder around his neck and then slipped it under his shirt.

She put a hand on his cheek and wiped his tears, "Do you understand, love? This will help me find you, and it will shield you from others. If you need me, use it, and I will come in my ship to get you. Alright?"

Cassian sniffed, "But how will I know when to call?"

Mon Mothma smiled through tears, keeping her lips steady, "You will know."

Cassian gave her a small smile, and then clutched the transponder under his shirt, "Yes, my Lady."

Cassian stood by the door alone as Mon Mothma drove away with her escort. His father did not walk up behind him until after she was gone.

"I'm sorry son, I tried," Max whispered, and he put a hand on Cassian's shoulder. Cassian turned back around, Max squatted down to his level, and Cassian hugged his father.

The next day they left their estate, Cassian did not realize it would be for the last time.

7 BBY — Mandalorian Space — Near Concord Dawn

Din did not waste any time. He threw Cassian down to the floor again, stood up and pulled out his blaster. He adjusted the width of the blast to the narrowest setting and then dialed the intensity up just slightly. Then he pointed the blaster at Cassian's left lower leg and fired.

Cassian screamed out from the shock as the shot burned a small but focused wound through his boot and pant leg and immediately smoked and bled.

You have to appreciate his precision, Father. Don't be angry with him. He is going to get the job done. Whether or not I survive this does not matter. You taught me that. We are doing this so children can grow up in a galaxy ruled by democracy, right? That was what you said...

Din took aim and counted as he measured his shots up through Cassian's body. Then with his blaster pointed at the chosen location for shot number two, he turned back to the older officer.

"I estimate you have less than a minute to talk, he'll be unlikely to withstand more than six more shots," Din said coldly. "Your life is over, but you could give him a chance to live."

Dawes hesitated for too long, so Din turned back to Cassian and took shot number two to Cassian's left thigh, and Cassian screamed louder and writhed in pain.

Father, I take it back, you can haunt him all you want. This is going to end soon. I'll help you haunt him. We can scare him senseless together.

Dawes hesitated again as his mouth dropped open but no sound came out, so Din gritted his teeth took shot number three to Cassian's abdomen, and Din had to swallow to prevent bile from rising in his throat as Cassian's screams cut into his soul.

Father… Cassian's consciousness began to float, and Din's stomach clenched as he heard Cassian's cries of agony shift to moans of decompensating body function. Paz looked at Din and then back at Dawes. Din was focused on Dawes and never looked away.

Dawes now had tears running down his face but he did not speak.

Din turned back to Cassian and shifted the blaster again for shot number four.

"Stop — please. Stop," Dawes whispered. Din and Paz both looked at Dawes. "Geonosis. The project is at Geonosis."

Din looked at Paz then back to Dawes.

"WHAT IS THE PROJECT?" Din shouted so loudly that Dawes flinched, and Din's blaster was still aimed at Cassian.

Dawes face hung, and dark circles deepened under eyes that had seen too many sleepless nights as they looked into Din's soul.

"It is a weapon. Created by an engineer called Erso. It is the scourge of this galaxy. Billions will die. Billions already have died to make it."

Din looked to Paz for permission. He knew that Cassian would not survive the next shot. They had a location, a name, and they now knew it was a weapon not a ship.

Paz looked over at Din and nodded.

Din swung his blaster around, and blasted Dawes through the head, and Dawes dropped back to the floor. Then Din turned immediately, and picked up Cassian, who was still moaning, but his body was about to give up. Din heaved Cassian over his shoulder, wrapping his arms around Cassian's legs and walked quickly out of the room.

"Cassian, we did it…" Din panted as he ran with his limp friend on his shoulder. "You have to help me figure out what the next move is. Come on, I need you to hang on, man…"

Din turned another corner and heard Paz running behind him calling the infirmary to prepare for their arrival.

"Cassian — stay with me... We are almost to the infirmary... Cassian? CASSIAN?..."