Author's Note: This is cross-posted on AO3 under my pen name there (maribeau). I tried to keep the Rogue One character's backstories and characterizations as close to canon as possible, only tweaking slightly to make them fit into their Mummy roles. The gender-role-reversal of the Evie & O'Connell characters actually made more sense given the characterization and backstories of Cassian& Jyn. So enjoy Adventurer!Jyn, Librarian!Cassian, and The Mummy takes on the rest of the Rogue One crew. (I kept some of the Mummy characters the same, so I guess this is a mashup/crossover/AU?)
A/N 2: You'll find I'm following the plot of The Mummy fairly closely, with the prologue more-or-less lifted from that movie (and adapted a little).
PROLOGUE
A very long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…
Thebes, Planet of the Living, crown Jewel of Pharaoh SETI the First.
Home of Imhotep, Pharaoh's high priest, keeper of the dead.
Birthplace of Anck-Su-Namun, Pharaoh's mistress.
No other man was allowed to touch her...
But for their love, they were willing to risk life itself.
Imhotep and Anck-Su-Namun were discovered by SETI. Knowing it meant both of their deaths, they struck first, killing the Pharaoh before his bodyguard could stop them.
Anck-Su-Namun sacrificed herself so that Imhotep could escape. Only the high priest could resurrect her so they could be together for once more.
To resurrect Anck-Su-Namun, Imhotep and his priests broke into her crypt and stole her body. They flew to Hamun, a planet on the far side of the system, taking Anck-Su-Namun's corpse to Hamun-Aptra, City of the Dead, ancient burial site for the sons of pharaohs and resting place for the wealth of E'Gypt.
For his love, Imhotep dared the gods' anger by going deep into the city, where he took the black Book of the Dead from its holy resting place.
Anck-Su-Namun's soul had been sent to the dark underworld, her vital organs removed and placed in five sacred Canopic jars.
Imhotep brought her soul back from the dead, but Pharaoh's bodyguards had followed lmhotep and stopped him before the ritual could be completed.
Imhotep's priests were condemned to be mummified alive. As for Imhotep, he was condemned to endure the Hom-Dai, the worst of all ancient curses. One so horrible, it had never before been bestowed. He was to remain sealed inside his sarcophagus, be undead for all of eternity.
The Madji would never allow him to be released, for he would arise a walking disease, a plague upon the galaxy, an unholy flesh-eater with the strength of ages, power over the sands of the worlds, and the Glory of Invincibility.
...
HAMUN-APTRA
For 3,000 years, men and armies fought over this land, never knowing what evil lay beneath it. And for 3,000 years, the Madji, the descendants of Pharaoh's sacred bodyguards, kept watch.
Word had come from Ky-Ro of another set of fools searching for the cursed city buried in the vast desert of the Planet of the Dead. And so the Madji Guardians did as they always had done, had sworn an oath to do, one passed down through the generations.
The Madji watched.
They would intervene if it was necessary, to protect the galaxy from the Creature. They would do whatever was necessary. But usually, the Guardians need only watch.
Things had a way of resolving themselves. The Force had a way of balancing the universe.
"Have they reached the city?" Chirrut Imwe asked, leaning on his staff. He could feel the faint breeze in the relentless heat of the sun, could smell the sweat of his comrades, the all-encompassing sand, even the disturbance in the desert had its own… smell? Maybe more of a feel. Either way, he didn't really need to ask, because even without seeing, he knew.
"They have," Baze Maldus, replied, his voice as gruff and curt as ever, but Chirrut could feel his partner's energy. The practical-minded Guardian was in a good mood, any excuse to stretch his excitement of actually doing something and not just waiting… Even if it was only watching so far. "It looks like this time, we'll have to act."
"Prepare to fight!" Baze called to the Madji gathered around them. Chirrut could hear them stir, the metal and fabric sounds of weapons being unsheathed, unholstered, the hum of those that required power sources. And the anxious shifting of the horses' hooves on the sand-covered rock of the precipice.
"Wait!" Chirrut only had to raise his voice marginally. The Madji were good listeners. But likely none as good as the blind man. "They're not alone."
Sure enough, the sound of the approaching riders increased in volume, bordering on an outright roar like an oncoming sandstorm, at least to Chirrut's sensitive ears. But surely the others heard the cacophony of rattling saddles, adrenaline-fueled breathing and shouts, the clanging of weapons, and then, finally, the sharp rapport of blaster fire as they engaged those that had reached the Cursed City first.
"Who are they?" Chirrut asked, relaxing against his staff once more, listening, and using his other senses. The Force had been telling him something about this particular group of treasure hunters, since the Madji had first tracked their landing site on the desert planet and gotten close enough for to get a sense of them. For the most part, the band had been the same sort of mix of slightly darkly-slanted, muddied energies. But the Force moved differently around one of the party, the human female with the Coruscant accent. And the kyber crystal necklace.
"It looks like that bunch that decided their objectives no longer aligned with their expedition leader's."
Chirrut chortled . No honor amongst thieves. Or treasure hunters.
"Who's winning?" he asked.
"Difficult to say," Baze said. "Our luck, they'll just kill each other and leave us here to watch, sitting on our widening backsides."
"Speak for yourself, my friend," Chirrut said, straightening to show off his lean body and patting his flat stomach.
Baze chuckled. "If anyone were to survive, though… I would bet on the girl."
"Mm." Chirrut agreed. "The Force moves differently around her."
Baze scoffed. His oldest, dearest friend claimed he was a Guardian because of tradition and loyalty, but Chirrut knew better than to believe the man's objections that he did not believe in the Force.
Either way, they were in agreement about the young woman. Chirrut listened, focused his senses, seeking her out specifically amongst the melee, trying to figure out the nature of the disturbance in the Force. Maybe it was just the kyber crystal she wore.
Maybe it was something more…
…
"Steady!" Jyn Erso shouted, looking to the less-than-confidence-inspiring group of mercenaries crouching with their backs to the fallen stone ruins.
The contingent of men, Hamket's crew -which had immediately betrayed them, setting off in a different direction after they'd landed on Hamun- unfortunately seemed much more intimidating and capable as they came plummeting down the sand dune towards the remains of Orson Krennic's expedition.
Krennic may have been her father's friend, but he had a terrible 'people sense' and, Jyn was realizing, couldn't see past the end of his own nose. How had she let him talk her into signing onto this job? She shoved her frustration and anger aside. It would do her no favors in the coming fight.
She checked her blaster rifle one last time, wondering how long it would last in the accursed desert sand, and then turned to face the frenzied mercenaries riding hard towards them on horseback, brandishing all manner of lethal weapons.
Movement to her left drew her attention. Not an enemy threat.
Tivik -who Krennic, being an xeno-archaeologist and not a fighter had put in command of the remaining mercs of his expedition- bolted for the shelter of the ruins behind them.
"You just got promoted," Krennic said with an ironic grin from where he sat crouched beside her.
Jyn wasn't bothered to see the back of the nervous coward Tivik. And couldn't feel all that bad when a blaster bolt hit him square in the back and dropped him to the ground. He probably didn't deserve it. But neither did she, or the others. And they were all about to die if they didn't keep, "Steady!"
Jyn glanced at Krennic again, uncertain of what to expect from him. He looked even paler than normal, as pale as his normally fastidiously clean white garments and his neatly trimmed silver hair.
"You're still with me, right?" Jyn asked.
"Your strength gives me strength, my girl."
Jyn grit her teeth against the unwarranted pet name and sighted down her rifle. Just a little bit closer and their shots' accuracy would increase drastically.
"Steady!" she called again.
"Wait!" Krennic shouted. Jyn blinked in confusion. They were waiting. And pretty soon waiting would not be at all wise. "I have to get out of here. You just-"
Krennic bolted. Jyn didn't have the time or energy to give him a backwards glance. The (admittedly) rather terrifying traitorous mercenaries were practically on top of them now, less than a hundred yards from the edge of the ruins where they were holed up.
Jyn sighted her target again.
"Fire!" she shouted, easing her own trigger until the rifle discharged and the rider she'd been targeting flew off his mount. Simultaneously the air was rent by blaster fire and the cries of the injured. And the enraged.
She managed to get off a few more shots but the horses with their mercenary riders were fast and on their meager frontline in seconds. Jyn was not suicidal. She had a strong sense of self-preservation and knew when to retreat.
Fighting all the while.
She managed to take down two more of the enemy while steadily moving backwards toward the heart of the ruins, and then the damned rifle jammed. Because Krennic knew bantha shit about desert-adapted weapons. Or just didn't care for the added expense. The sand. The kriffing sand got into any microfracture and interfered in the power modu-
Jyn noticed Hamket coming for her, pushing his terrified horse hard, brandishing a nasty curved blade as he leaned down quite a bit so he could actually slash at her petite stature, putting himself enough off balance that she could whack him with the useless rifle and knock him entirely from his saddle. The man got up and charged her. She struck him solidly in the face with the rifle, cracking the stock but succeeding in dropping the bastard to the ground. She tossed the now completely useless rifle aside.
Time to get out of there.
Jyn moved more quickly, as quickly as she could walking backwards on the fluid ground of fine sand overlying erratic stone ruins, pulling the two blasters out of their holsters at her hips and firing at any enemy she could remotely get a bead on. The blasters, too, shit the bed after maybe half a dozen shots. She tossed them to the ground.
And pulled out the set she had tucked into the back of her gun belt.
She fired, taking down several mercs, but it was definitely time to run. The slope of the ramp into the main part of the city's ruins didn't pose a challenge at all. She crested it, entering the abandoned, cursed city and did a hasty evaluation of her surroundings. Fighting was continuing everywhere. Several mercenaries were riding up fast behind her. Ahead of her,
"Run, Krennic! Run!"
The man seemed to spot the dark entrance amongst thick stone slabs at the same time Jyn had, and sprinted towards it. She followed, dredging up some extra speed from somewhere but having to pause to take a few more shots along the way.
"Get inside!" she shouted, watching Krennic run around the stones and into the gap. "Get inside!"
She was almost there. Almost to safety. Just a dozen yards or so. Her rapidly pounding heart skipped a beat. That kriffing jerk!
"Hey! Don't you close that door!"
But it was too late. A massive sheet of metal appeared, looking thick beneath its ornate designs as Krennic heaved on it from behind, the gap to safety shrinking and covering his weasley face inch by inch until it was slammed shut with a clang in Jyn's face.
Suddenly, it was no longer an option to bang the door down as blaster fire ricocheted off the metal and scorched the stones around the entrance, barely missing her. Sometimes it paid to be small.
Jyn banked on her petite self being a difficult target as she ran in another direction, towards some large stone pillars, hoping to find some sort of shelter to protect her from the blaster fire and give her a fighting chance to survive.
It was like the kriffing obstacle courses Saw Gerrera forced her through while training her to be a rebel guerilla fighter… Before abandoning her. Like everyone seemed to abandon her.
Except for people bent on killing her apparently.
She dove off a large stone slab into the grit of a sand pile, narrowly avoiding being trampled, the mercenaries' horses nearly doing the job their blasters and swords had failed to do.
Dank farrik!
She'd lost her blasters. There. One in the sand. She made to grab it, hoping the kriffing thing would still work, but enemy fire made her pull back her hand just before she lost any fingers.
And she ran.
It was all she had left.
No weapons. Just the strength of her legs and her will to live. She ran. Weaving in and out and around the ruins, her steps not as sure, not as fast as they could be in the mealy grains of sand. She didn't look back. But she knew they were there.
Look ahead. She could only move forward, face what was in front of her. It was the ironic truth of her life, which -shit!- looked to be at its end.
A massive stone structure blocked her way. She threw up her hands in surrender. Surrender was the final weapon, wasn't it? The final recourse. A last chance to live to fight another day, according to Saw.
Jyn turned to face the mercenaries she knew were behind her, knew had their blasters trained on her. She squeezed her eyes shut and anticipated the death she had probably evaded for so long, no wonder it had caught up to her at last.
And waited.
And waited.
What…?
She opened her eyes in time to witness the terrified expressions on the mercenaries' faces, before their horses reared, throwing a couple off entirely, and the whole lot of them fled, faster than they'd chased her down, out of the ruins.
And then she heard it. Felt it.
Something… Unnatural.
The ghostly cries of some creature, yipping, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She turned, slowly, looking up into the unsettling face of an alien creature, worn by time to the stone core of its statue, pocked and inanimate, but somehow alive. It seemed to stare at her with his blank stone eyes, down its long snout and-
Sand whipped her. She turned on her heel, only to face another blast of sand from the ground. And another. She stumbled away from the statue, watching with horrifying disbelief as a great gaping mouth opened in the forming dune, accompanied by unseeing eyes and a featureless face. It moaned, a low long roar of agony and hatred that sent her scrambling, scurrying out of the ruins.
It had been called the City of the Dead by its long-expired empire, but the folk tales were right in calling it the City of the Damned. Cursed.
Jyn clutched at the kyber crystal beneath her shirt, her dead mother's necklace. She wasn't much for religion, but she asked the Force and her mother, wherever she might be, for protection. From that place. From whatever resided in Hamun-Aptra.
She'd rather die in the desert than be trapped forever in that place.
…
"The creature remains undiscovered," Chirrut said, certain, feeling the tension leave his fellow Madji, leave his own shoulders… and leave the Force, as it settled back into a balanced state.
Baze Malbus grunted. "The others have seen to those cowards who betrayed their own and then ran. But the girl…"
"She survived."
"As I said." Baze enjoyed being right more than was healthy, in Chirrut's opinion. He didn't point out that they had been in agreement about the girl. "Should we kill her?"
He didn't sound like it was an option he liked. But doing things that were unpleasant were sometimes necessary to protect the entire galaxy from the Cursed One.
"No," Chirrut said, thumping his staff on the ground. He would not be party to killing this woman. Not when he sensed something. "The Force will decide her fate."
A/N: Up next... Librarian!Cassian...