Author's Note: I had to find a way to transition Canon Cassian to Librarian!Cassian, and I of course went straight to an angsty solution (rather than something like having him be undercover). Anyway, therefore,

MILD WARNING: REFERENCES TO PTSD/BURNOUT. NO TRAUMATIC EVENTS/INCIDENTS ARE DESCRIBED OR DEPICTED.

PLANET KY-RO, E'GYPT SYSTEM - 3 YEARS LATER

"Sacred stones, sculpture and aesthetics, Socrates, Seth, volume one, volume two, and volume three. And... Tuthmosis. What are you doing here?"

Cassian Andor sighed. Sometimes he wondered what the hell he was doing. Okay, he often wondered that. But especially when his entire day was spent shelving archaic tomes made of actual paper. Why the Ky-Ro Museum of Antiquities didn't switch to a digital repository was beyond his understanding. But a lot was beyond his understanding.

Like why he thought he could find a better way to be of service to the Rebellion. Maybe it was just an excuse, because he just hadn't been able to do it anymore, do the questionable things that left him broken inside, left him- Cassian shook his head, still repressing the memories that would haunt him until the day he died. Those ghosts hadn't grown any quieter for his choosing a quieter sort of life.

"Tuthmosis." At least it did give him some modicum of satisfaction, returning things to their home, the place where they belonged. Since he seemed to be getting nowhere with his real objectives that had found him working as an archivist in the museum. "T. T, t, t…"

Dank Farrik. The T section was directly behind him. Maybe he could just…

Nope. Bad idea. Because now he was perched atop the rather-tall ladder which had been thrust completely vertical when he'd leaned out too far shifting his weight distribution. Tottering perilously a dozen feet from the stone tiled floor, like an incompetent sort of stilt-walker.

Um… How to get down was the question. Not so long ago, when he was still a rebel spy, he would've just jumped.

Why couldn't he do that now? Just because his distaste for killing had finally choked him to where he couldn't breathe, didn't mean he'd entirely lost his nerve. It was just ten or so feet.

The ladder wobbled.

Now or never, captain.

Cassian leapt from the top rungs where he'd been clinging and landed, not badly, actually. On his feet, but with enough forward momentum he'd had to catch himself with his hands on the hard tile so as not to fall on his face. He pushed himself back to standing and dusted his hands together, feeling rather smug but noticing all too late that the ladder had crashed hard into the shelf and- no kriffing way!

He could only watch in complete shock and awe as the bookshelf tottered over, crashing into the next and sending it crashing into the next, again and again, knocking over every single bookcase in the library.

Dust rose in a plume, swirling about the space, like a storm in the desert. When it cleared a little, it revealed a disaster far worse than a sandstorm.

"Oops." There really was nothing else to say.

"What... How... Oh, look at this!" The museum director had appeared, doubtless summoned by the terrible crashing cacophony of bookcases and priceless volumes of ancient knowledge being thrown to the floor and crushed. "Sons of the pharaohs! Give me frogs! Flies! Locusts! Anything but you! Compared to you, the other plagues were a joy!"

"I am so very sorry," Cassian said, still blinking in disbelief. At one time, people had even called him graceful. But that had been before… "It was an accident."

"When Rameses destroyed Syria, that was an accident," Dr. Terrence Bey shouted, justifiably agitated, Cassian had to admit. "You are a catastrophe! Look at my library! Why do I put up with you?"

"Well, you put up with me because…" Why did he put up with Cassian? Why did Cassian put up with himself anymore? Why did he think he'd find answers here, that he could find a solution none of the greatest minds or diplomats in the Alliance could? "I can read and write Ancient E'gyptian, and I can decipher hieroglyphics and hieratic, and, well, I am the only person on this planet who knows how to properly code and catalog this library, that's why."

"I put up with you because I owe a great debt to Bail Organa and he asked me to give you a job." Little did Dr. Bey know how much Cassian owed that man himself, for arguing on the burned-out operative's behalf, to allow him to go off on what the Council considered a wild bantha chase, a complete waste of time. Apparently, it was. A waste of not only Cassian's time, but also the museum director's. "Now, I don't care how you do it, I don't care how long it takes, straighten up this mess!

Dr. Bey stormed out, leaving Cassian to wallow. He'd never been a wallower before. He'd always been so certain. Of course, why wouldn't he have, fighting since the age of six against the Empire that had taken his parents, taken his childhood, destroyed his home and everything he'd ever known and loved? It had been so clear… until it had become muddier and muddier… And then the waters he'd found himself delicately navigating had been darker than they were light. And he'd nearly drowned in them.

No. This was a better way. It would be. He'd prove it to the Alliance. He'd discover the secrets of the Ancient E'gyptians, the fabled technology and weapons and so-called magic. He'd find a way to end the Empire's reign without losing any more innocents… Without he himself having to be the one to sacrifice one more innocent.

Never again.

Cataloguing research and dusty old tomes at least didn't add to the nightmares, except for all those times he woke up in a cold sweat with the crushing guilt of walking away, of the consequences of leaving the strained, struggling Alliance with one less resource. He knew he was expendable, replaceable, of course. But what if he would've been the cog, the pin, the small insignificant part that made the difference between success and failure.

No. There was a better way than doing the things he'd done. He would find it. Force, it could be right here, in this giant mess of his own making. And he only had to be clever enough to find it. Or stubborn enough.

Cassian picked up the nearest book splayed open on the floor, spine up. He sighed. "Tuthmosis."

He scrubbed a hand over his face and eyed the avalanche, the massacre of books. It was difficult to even discern a starting place. Books would have to be cleared out of the way before an attempt could be made at righting the cases. But the books couldn't be cleared away since the majority were trapped under and being crushed by the cases. A pang of guilt and alarm pierced him, forming a lump in his throat. All these volumes of such painstakingly gathered information, thoroughly analyzed, compiled, penned and catalogued… Damaged and disarrayed.

Maybe he had lost his nerve, his fiercely blind loyalty, his ability not to accidentally trash a library... But one thing had remained; Cassian valued knowledge, liked gathering it and organizing it and using it. And the catastrophe -Dr. Bey had been quite apt, it was a catastrophe surrounding Cassian- was almost anxiety-inducing.

Another thing that was still true; Cassian Andor did not quaver or quail in the face of impossible tasks. He picked up several more books splayed across the floor like dismembered fallen soldiers. Only these casualties could recover. For the most part. Hopefully.

A strange sound drifting through the library made Cassian hesitate, his ears straining to quantify the noise. He placed the pile of books in his arms on top of the stack near the door. And stood stock still, silent, listening.

He could only hear the draft that swept through the building, rustling a drapery here, a piece of paper there. And the creaking of the toppled bookcases settling onto their beds of disgorged books. Nothing seemed-

The sound drifted in again, determined to disturb the peace of the museum despite its paltry timbre. It was definitely a vocalization, Cassian thought, almost wail-like. It prickled the hairs on the back of his neck and sent his hand instinctively to his hip, a futile attempt to draw a blaster that was no longer there, that hadn't been there for the better part of a year. Because he worked in a museum. He didn't need a weapon.

Or so he thought.

Maybe he should've remained more wary. But who but Alliance Intelligence brass knew he was on Ky-Ro? Who but Alliance Command even knew he existed, knew the secrets he still kept, let alone would come after him?

This, this was nothing. If just a little creepy. Force, it was probably some of the museum staff fooling around.

"Hello?" Cassian called as he stepped into the hall. Sometimes, it was better to slink undetected in the shadows. Sometimes, there were no shadows and it was better to just announce oneself and prove they wouldn't be messed with.

There was no one in sight. After a moment of standing and listening to the noise reverberating off the great stone walls, he determined its source and strode carefully down the hall towards it.

"Abdul?"

No reply. He paused. Too far.

Cassian backtracked a few steps, and then turned into the sarcophagus display room, where the sound was more tangible, an awkwardly intoned wail, vacillating awkwardly in pitch. Definitely a poorly attempted farce… Right?

"Mohammed?"

No reply. Hm… Maybe this wasn't a practical joke from the museum staff, who liked to harass him with their good humor, trying to get a laugh or even smile out of the man they thought a socially awkward, timid librarian-type with a stoic, broody side. Which, well, maybe wasn't all that inaccurate now. He hadn't used his espionage-tailored charm in quite a while. Nor did he care to.

"Bob?"

No answers, but movement out of the corner of his eye caused him to spin around to find himself face to face with a mummy. The shock of finding the desiccated mouth, and ragged voids where the nose and eyes had been, a mere inch from his own face startled him, making him literally jump and stumble backward, tripping over an ornate gold chest to land on his ass on the hard tile.

Again, his hand instinctively went to his hip searching for the blaster that had been strapped to his thigh for basically his entire life. Before he could recover and search out an alternative weapon, something took hold of the front of his cardigan and hauled him to his feet.

"You are growing complacent, Cassian."

"K-2!" He glared at the droid who promptly released his now hopelessly stretched out sweater.

"The Alliance made me accompany you when you left to ensure that the intelligence you still retain remains secure," Kay continued, unfazed. "I shall have to report back that you are vulnerable to attack and Alliance secrets are at risk. Perhaps it would be better if we returned to-"

"I don't want to hear it. We aren't going back until we find something to put an end to the Empire. You need to get used to this world." Stabbing a finger in the direction of the mummy haphazardly tossed to the floor, he scolded the only actual friend he'd had in his entire life. "Have you no respect for the dead?!"

"Hm…" K-2S0 tilted his head as he looked at the corpse. "I did not realize it was once a person. It looks more like a bundle of firewood."

Cassian held his tongue. K-2S0 should know better, but any fault in his programming was Cassian's responsibility. And besides, he knew the real reason he was angry. Nothing had ever snuck up on Captain Cassian Andor, and even Mr. Andor, associate museum curator -okay, librarian- had never been startled like that before. Maybe he was growing complacent. Maybe his nerves and reflexes were just not what they'd been.

"Something is wrong." The droid turned the same scrutiny he'd used on the 'bundle of firewood actually a dead body that should be respected' on Cassian. "You are unwell. Your heart rate indicates you are anxious about something, Cassian."

He glared at the droid. "Or my heart rate is high because you threw a mummified corpse at me!"

Again, the round grey dome 'head' tilted, not unlike a domesticated animal's, K-2's sensors somehow achieving an extremely piercing gaze.

"That is not why you are anxious."

How often the droid could read him like that, it somewhat defied mechanical explanation. He might never discuss it aloud, but if he was pressed to come down on a side of the matter, Cassian would be a liar if he said he firmly believed droids didn't have some equivalent to a soul, a personality and uniqueness on par with organic beings.

"Why are you anxious, Cassian? Is it because you have left the rebellion for this deserted system in the boondocks of the galaxy?"

"No." Cassian scowled. Then sighed and ran his hand over his head, messing up the neat side part he'd painstakingly tamed his unruly hair into that morning with far too much pomade, per the style on Ky-Ro. "I've just made a bit of a mess in the library." He dropped the level of his voice to a whisper. "And the Alliance has denied my request for more resources to find the Book of Amun-Ra… again."

"The Alliance is correct," K-2S0 said in his typical way that was probably just intended to be matter-of-fact but came across as snarky. "The Book of Amun-Ra is a myth. There is no evidence of its existence… No evidence at all."

"Thanks for your support, K-2." Cassian felt his shoulders slump. What was he doing here in the E'Gypt system, composed of a handful of planets full of the ruins of a long-gone empire? What could an ancient civilization offer the rebels in the battle to free the galaxy from evil?

If the Book of Amun-Ra held the secrets the stories said… Well, it could change everything.

"I got you a present, Cassian."

"What?"

"You have been especially morose as of late. I have observed that presents often cheer up humans."

K-2S0 tapped a panel on the side of his torso and it popped open. The droid pulled out a small metal object and handed it to Cassian, who absently took it, honestly feeling a little dumbstruck by the events of the day. He had grown complacent, settled into the quiet life of archaeological research and library cataloguing.

It was an octagonal little metal… box? Cassian turned it over in his hands, examining it for clues.

"Did it cheer you up?" There was a hopeful lilt to his droid-friend's tone.

"Uh… yes." It looked… right. The metal work. The details. "I think you've found something interesting, Kay. Did you see the cartouche there?"

"Of course. I am functioning within optimal parameters," the droid said, then muttered as he tended to do. "Unlike certain former intelligence operatives."

Cassian chose to ignore his friend. Again, it was his own fault for not being able to finesse the droid's reprogramming. And honestly, he rather liked Kay's brutally honest personality, not that he'd tell him that.

"It's the official Royal seal of SETI the First," Cassian explained. The droid's circuits had a capacity for a great volume of information, but ancient E'Gyptian culture was not among the data he stored. K-2S0 showed no interest in acquiring such information, but Cassian spent every waking moment on Ky-Ro searching out and learning the lost civilization's secrets. He ran his thumb over the inlaid metal hieroglyphics. "Yes, I'm sure of it."

"I am glad my gift has achieved its purpose of cheering you up," Kay said. "But who is SETI the First? And why do we care?"

"He was the second pharaoh of the 19th dynasty, said to be the wealthiest pharaoh of them all." Kay's robotic shoulders lifted then dropped, an imitation of a shrug, as if he was saying 'so, what?' Cassian couldn't help but smile a little. Anyone else, humanoid or droid or otherwise, would've been salivating over potential treasure. But not K-2. "The E'Gyptian empire flourished under his rule; culturally, economically...technologically."

In fact, the little metal octagon appeared to be… Yes. A Puzzle box. The circular portion in the middle gave beneath minimal pressure and tiny metal flaps popped open. And still, there seemed to be… He pressed a little hard and the release compressed further and-

Cassian nearly jumped when the hologram materialized, a shimmering gold map of a planet.

"What is that?" K-2S0 asked.

"It looks like…" Cassian's heart was racing, adrenaline filling his veins. He hadn't felt such a rush since that moment after completing a mission, when he knew he'd succeeded and was in the clear, undetected. "Hamun."

…

"I don't understand why we need to consult the director of this inconsequential museum. What would he know about defeating the Empire?"

"We are not consulting Dr. Bey," Cassian said. "I am going to ask him to confirm my assessment of this artifact."

Cassian waved the puzzle-box-hologram-device at K-2S0, as if the droid were unaware what they were talking about. Sometimes, it was unclear to K-2 whether the former captain was unintelligent himself or just thought that K-2S0's circuits were slow.

"Wait here." Cassian glanced around into the director's lavish office. Sometimes, K-2S0 almost understood why his friend had left the Alliance for this system on the edge of nowhere, housing apparently more dead people than living. By a factor of 824.6. The furnishings were at least more comfortable by humanoid standards. Well, mostly. Cassian's quarters on Ky-Ro had more things than on the Alliance bases. And his friend seemed to sleep better.

But there was no accounting for fashion sense. He watched Cassian try to reshape his hair into the sculpted side-part with waves he'd been favoring. K-2S0 assumed it was to blend into the population of the planet, along with the clothes… The thing he put around his neck and called a bowtie, K-2S0 had tried to warn him was only a convenient means for an assailant to strangle Cassian.

"Why can't I come with you?" K-2S0 didn't believe that the museum director, who seemed high-strung but harmless, would strangle Cassian with his own bowtie. Although he had just destroyed the man's library. But K-2 had helped him right the cases and put all the books -paper, were these people heathens?- back in order.

"Because I don't want him to know where I got the puzzle box."

"Are you ashamed that I'm your only friend, Cassian?"

"What?" The furrows formed between his friend's dark brows, the only quirk that betrayed the intelligence operative when he was attempting to obfuscate his emotional state. Most often, he did not hide his feelings with K-2S0 though. That is why he knew he was Cassian's friend. His only friend. The human hid from every person he interacted with. Under one of his numerous guises.

"The director knows I am your friend. Why can't he know I gave you a present?"

"That's not-" Cassian shook his head. "I don't have time to explain it to you. Just wait here."

"Fine. But I'm listening in."

"Good. Thank you."

Cassian smoothed his wrinkled cardigan down and turned to enter the office. His friend looked, well, ridiculous in K-2S0's opinion.

"I think I need to, in case he strangles you with your bowtie."

"Kay!" Cassian hissed as he stopped to give the droid a glare, before straightening and striding into the museum director's office.

"Dr. Bey, could you look at something for me?"

"Only if that library has been straightened up."

The aged man sounded irritated. Perhaps bowtie-strangling was imminent.

"It has."

"Oh, really?"

Very imminent. But Cassian would be angry if K-2 acted supposedly too soon, without give him time to persuade. One of the spy's specialties had been convincing people to do things… or not to do things.

"I swear it. Not a volume out of place."

A beleaguered sigh.

"Fine. What is it?"

Perhaps the threat of strangulation by bowtie had passed.

There was a faint metallic clunk as Cassian placed the puzzle box on the desk. K-2S0 could hear the negligible snick as the lock was sprung and it opened and the hologram engaged.

"I've already dated the metal," Cassian said. "It's almost 3,000 years old. And if you look at the hieratic script on this portion of the hologram… Well, it's Hamun-Aptra."

"Force, don't be ridiculous." Okay, threat of bowtie-strangulation increasing. " We're scholars, not treasure hunters. Hamun-Aptra's a myth told by ancient storytellers to amuse Core tourists.

"I know all the bantha crap about the city being protected by the curse of a mummy," Cassian said, his vitals spiking from excitement. "But my research has led me to believe that the city itself may have actually existed, the fabled City of the Dead, where they kept all of E'Gypt's secrets."

Where Cassian thought he could find this Book of Amun-Ra. He had not said so. But K-2S0 was good at strategic analysis. And it was the only logical conclusion.

"Yes, yes, in a big underground treasure chamber." Sarcasm levels detected in the director's voice, as he continued speaking. "And the entire necropolis was rigged to sink into the sand on Pharaoh's command and take the treasure with it. It's all fairy tales and krayt spit."

There was a sudden clattering noise and a plonk! What had Cassian knocked over now?! K-2 did not understand how the same being went from acceptably capable (for a human) to a complete disaster. Maybe it was the nightmares. But Cassian had been sleeping better here as far as the droid could discern.

"Oh, my goodness! Look at that!"

Insincerity was detectable in the director's voice. But for what reason? Maybe it wasn't Cassian this time…

K-2S0 sidled up to the wall and peeked around into the office. Cassian was on his knees beside the large wooden desk where the director was sitting barefoot with pant legs rolled up. Cassian's forearm, green wool of his sweater and all, was submerged in a basin of some sort. K-2's friend grimaced as he fished his hand around and then finally pulled out an item covered in goop.

The puzzle-box-hologram-map. Sighing, Cassian seemed to accept the green cardigan as a total loss and wiped the device off on his shirtfront.

"I don't see why you have a kriffing Bacta footbath in your office," he cursed.

"Bunions are a very painful and inconvenient affliction which you should pray you never suffer," the director said. Perhaps, the threat of Cassian being strangled with that bowtie had risen again. Although, it appeared the threat had likely reversed judging by the cold expression on the younger man's face.

Cassian's sleeve was still soaked and there was bacta smeared all over his shirtfront, but he'd managed to clean off the device enough to pop it back open and initiate the hologram.

The hologram which sputtered and was pixelated and blurred in one portion. Cassian zoomed in on the region of the planet and scowled.

"The circuitry was scrambled when you knocked it into your stupid footbath," he said. "The part of the map with coordinates of the city is gone."

"It's for the best, I'm sure," the director said, getting to his bare feet and ushering Cassian toward the doorway. "Many have wasted their lives in the foolish pursuit of Hamun-Aptra. No one's ever found it. Most have never re-"

The aged human startled.

"Oh, hello," he said when he'd recovered himself and scrutinized the droid in front of him, who had been lurking in the shadow just outside the door.

"Hello.I am K-2S0. I am Cassian's only friend. I-"

"Not now, Kay. Come on."

K-2S0 gave an apologetic shrug to the museum director. How could he be expected to 'attempt to be civil' as Cassian put it, when Cassian himself was the very epitome of rude?

"You're going to tell me exactly where you got this map," he said once they were out of range to be overheard by the human ear.

And K-2S0 was actually pleased by the commanding tone returning to the former captain's voice. Maybe his present had served its purpose.

K-2S0 had successfully cheered up his friend.

A/N: Unsure about accuracy or level of K-2SO sass here but oh, well... (I'm enjoying writing this, if you can't tell.)

A/N 2: Up Next... When Cassian meets Jyn... ;-)