On the way to Scarif, Cassian and Jyn discuss the coming mission, but the conversation veers from the topic at hand. Rogue One one-shot.

A/N: Well, here I am – late to the party as usual. Fashionably late? No? Ah well, I never was very fashionable. Anyway, another unexpected story from me, though this one actually goes back to my roots. Some of the first "fan fiction" I ever wrote was for Star Wars, but that was back before things were online. It was all done on paper and shared via mail or at conventions, so your audience was somewhat limited. The Internet changed all that, and made it far easier to share with far more people.

So, here's a story based on Star Wars: Rogue One. Likely by now, everyone has already seen it. If you haven't, why on earth are you reading fan fiction about it? Check out the original first! But, if you haven't, there are slight spoilers herein. This is actually a gap-filler scene. Hope you enjoy. This will have to do until I get my muse back for Lord of the Rings.

Weakness

It didn't take long after departing the base on Yavin for the rebel soldiers to settle into the space of the cargo hold. As Bodhi had said, it was cramped with that many, but they had suffered worse. After some shuffling of gear and bodies, everyone had found a reasonably comfortable position. There was more room on the top deck, but none of them even glanced toward the ladder. This was a mission. That deck was for officers – the captains, generals and such. They were soldiers, even if they were leaving the base without permission to set out on a mission that was not authorized. They had a Captain on board. That was enough.

Cassian had kept moving ever since they departed Yavin, checking that everyone had food or water during the journey, that they'd found somewhere to catch some sleep. A voice in the back of his mind told him that he was only trying to run from doing what he needed to do. He ignored it. He kept moving, not willing to address that issue just now. When they were within an hour of arrival, he did one final check throughout the ship, eating a ration bar as he went.

Cassian's eyes roved over the men sprawled on the lower deck. Some faces he knew better than others, but they were men like him. They did whatever it took to get the job done. To get results. Like Jyn said, if they followed orders that they knew were wrong then they might as well be stormtroopers themselves. His mouth twitched, but he didn't allow a smile to appear. Everything he had done, even when the orders made him uncomfortable, he had told himself was for the greater good. He had convinced himself of that surety and remembered it when missions came back to haunt his sleep. Not until he had looked into Jyn's eyes and heard her accusations had he ever doubted. He sighed and turned away. They were settled; there was nothing to do here.

He had expected Chirrut, Baze and even Jyn would be down here with the soldiers. Chirrut and Baze were – Chirrut sitting as straight and still as the staff he carried, though he could not tell if the man slept or merely meditated. Either was possible, but with the blind eyes it was difficult to determine. Baze's eyes were closed; he was pretty sure the big man slept. He got the feeling Baze knew how to take advantage of every moment's rest to prepare himself. He wished he could settle so easily.

At the top of the ladder, he glanced around. Only when his eyes fell on Jyn, by herself at the back of the deck, did he realize he had been seeking her out. He could hear K-2 and Bodhi discussing their approach to Scarif, and how to land without incident. Leave that to them.

He should speak with Jyn, but he still hadn't figured out what was going on in his head with regard to her. He didn't want her to think…well, best to do what he always did. Move in the shadows. Leave nothing behind. Cover his tracks. He was good at that.

Jyn set aside her pack, that she had been going through one final time, and looked up at him, then slowly stood. For a moment, his mind went blank. "We should be there soon." He winced inwardly. Okay, maybe not so good at it, at least not just now.

Her mouth twitched and she almost smiled. He was glad she didn't ask the question he knew was on the tip of her tongue – had he gone out of his way to come tell her the obvious? Instead, she just nodded. Glancing from his boots up to his face, she murmured, "You should rest, if you can. Another chance won't come any time soon."

How bad did he look for her to say that? Truth was, he couldn't even remember a time when he had felt rested, had slept a full night through. He'd rested here and there, but nothing more. Sleep did sound appealing, but he doubted he could relax enough for that. He never could right before a mission. His mind was too busy working scenarios, contingency plans.

"You, too," he replied automatically. "But we should make plans – figure out how we're going to approach this."

She bit her lower lip, then nodded again and plunked down on the deck, her back against the wall. He noticed she was situated so as to watch for anyone approaching. Likely that was habitual. Same as it was for him. He hesitated, considered sitting across from her but still close enough for conversation. When he didn't move right away, she craned her neck to look up at him questioningly. Was there also a challenge in that look? His mouth tightened, lips pinching together, his only outward indication of reluctance, and then settled next to her. Almost touching, but not quite.

She looked away, and he couldn't tell whether she approved of his choice or not. The silence stretched flimsi thin, swallowed in the drone of the engines and periodic creak of metal. He was the captain, the Intelligence Officer. He should take the lead, even if the pitch to the council had been all her. "We don't know what we can expect once we land. Bodhi doesn't know much about this facility. He's only been here a couple of times, and never left his landing pad."

"The Imps are pretty predictable. It won't be much different from other facilities," she observed.

He wondered how many of those facilities she had seen firsthand. Certainly an Imperial prison else they would not have been able to extract her on Wobani. On second thought, maybe he didn't really want to know more than that. "They'll inspect the shuttle – they always do. Usually with a stormtrooper guard. They're careful, even with their own ships."

"We can deal with that."

"K can get us a map, maybe find the likeliest location to access the data files without detection."

She glanced sideways at him. "I'll have to cover up – they won't believe a woman as the Inspector. At least, I've never seen one." She studied him a moment. "Of course, the Imp men are usually clean shaven too." She raised an amused eyebrow.

"We'll have to risk that. Just like we'll have to risk them not noticing a very short stormtrooper." He stared right back at her, and she grinned slightly before looking away.

"At least having K-2 along will help authenticate us," he added, returning to the planning.

"Yeah."

"Anything you want to add? This is your idea."

"You're the Intelligence Officer."

He scowled with annoyance. "I don't believe you pushed for this mission without some idea of what you'd do to bring it off."

She shrugged. "I don't do a lot of planning ahead. I deal with whatever confronts me and adjust accordingly. If we make it to the surface, then we focus on the inspection. Then getting inside, then reaching the data files, then getting out with the data. Step by step."

He let his head thunk softly back against the wall and closed his eyes. Simplistic. But, in a way, it was that simple. Missions usually were. For all the planning, they rarely followed dutifully along as intended. Detours, reroutes, changes, adjustments. "Yeah."

They lapsed into silence for several long minutes, and he wondered if she had fallen asleep, but didn't open his eyes to check. At length, she said quietly, "Thanks."

His eyes did flick open then, and he turned to look questioningly at her.

For a moment, she seemed at a loss to explain. "Just..just for backing me up. For helping do this. You were right – they were never going to believe me, at least not all of them. And politicians like a consensus. I…I didn't expect you to go against their decision. Disobey orders."

"They didn't order me not to go. Not that I asked if I could. But even if they had, someone once reminded me that only stormtroopers blindly follow orders they know are wrong." He let out a slow breath. "I have to do what I believe is right. Otherwise, all these years of fighting have been wasted. I couldn't live with that."

The silence encroached again, but there was a sort of peacefulness to it. Something had been resolved, though Cassian wasn't sure exactly what it was.

"Saw used to live and breathe for the rebellion. He and his Partisans had somewhat different methods to the Alliance, but it was still in pursuit of the same goal. Even so, I never…allowed myself to become that single-minded about it. The Empire had only ever taken from me, and caused me pain. The Alliance never gave me anything either. I couldn't feel an allegiance to either of them."

She paused, thinking, and he considered her words. From what little he knew of her, none of it surprised him.

"Even when I wasn't firmly committed to the Alliance, I never supported the Empire," she added, a touch of defiance in her voice. "At least the Alliance left me alone. It wasn't a good life. I had no family or friends or aid I could depend on, but I was alive and free to do whatever I wanted. Sort of." She drew a breath, then blurted out, "You know, I agreed to help you meet Saw only because it meant I might see my father again." She swallowed hard and fixed her gaze away from him.

"I know," he said quietly. He had noticed the hope light her eyes when told the pilot claimed to be sent by Erso. It had been her only lapse in concealing her thoughts. "That was one of the reasons I didn't trust you. Draven and the council were only focused on what they needed from you. A means to an end. I suspected they were underestimating you, and I knew that might get me killed in pursuit of the information they wanted."

"But still you went."

"I follow orders." He shrugged. "Death will come one day. There is little I can do to prevent it. Be careful. Take what precautions I can. But it will happen. I know that every time I leave base."

She turned to look at him, but noticed Bodhi hesitantly trying to catch her eye without interrupting. No matter what she said, he knew in Bodhi's eyes, she led this mission. She was the reason he was here, flying back toward the Empire that he had escaped.

She raised a questioning eyebrow at the pilot.

"We..we're about twenty minutes out. I..I thought you'd want to..to know." He flushed slightly and turned back to his controls.

"Thanks, Bodhi," she called to him, a hint of affection in her tone. Understandable since he was her last link to her father. The pilot acknowledged with a slight jerk of his head in their direction.

She continued to gaze toward the front, but he got the uncomfortable feeling she was looking at him, not Bodhi and K. He closed his eyes, but he could still feel her watching. Probing. What did she hope to see on his face? Guilt? Remorse? Fear? He'd felt all those things – more times than he cared to admit, even if only to himself. But he had long ago learned well how to keep his expression impassive. Give nothing away. It was one of the tricks that had helped him cheat death all these years. Show people only the face he wanted them to see. Make them believe that was the one that was really him. Truth was, he wasn't even sure what the real Cassian Andor looked like anymore. There had been too many disguises over too many years. He avoided looking too closely at the man he saw in the mirror.

"Why did you come for me?"

The question was spoken so softly that for a moment he wasn't sure if Jyn had voiced it, or he had merely had the thought himself. He looked over at her and saw the question lingering on her face. "We needed you to get us to Saw Gerrera." Even as he said it, he knew that wasn't what she had meant.

Her nose wrinkled with distaste at the response. "And after you had your introduction? And had found the pilot so you knew where my father was, where your target was?" She wasn't going to let him wriggle out of a real answer.

Why had he? She was right. At that point, they no longer needed her – him for his mission or the Alliance for anything else. Death was imminent – his first thought should have been getting out of there, fast. Not trying to find her and make sure she got out, too. Instead of examining the matter too closely, he fell into natural habits. "You might still have proved useful in trying to get to your father." A lie. He doubted she'd believe that. Jyn Erso was many things, but not stupid.

"Because of all my Imperial contacts?" she challenged. "Is that why you came for me on the platform after my father was dead? Because I might still be useful?"

Her tone was defensive, somewhat bitter. She half-expected him to say that was exactly why he had done it. That it was all for the Alliance. That those were his orders. Twenty-four hours ago, he could have given that answer without blinking an eye. But no matter how risky his previous missions had been, he very much suspected he would not walk away from this one. Hopefully some good would come of it. Hopefully they'd find a way to get the plans to the Alliance before they were captured or killed. He didn't want his last words to be a lie. Not to Jyn, anyway. But he wasn't sure just how far he wanted to go in speaking the truth he was beginning to realize.

"I don't know."

"Liar." She said it without malice, merely stating a fact, and then waited for more.

Of course she hadn't believed him. He hadn't really wanted her to. But her not believing meant he had to say more, and that was not so simple. Things had gotten more and more complicated every step of this mission. Using her to get to Saw Gerrera – that was easy enough. Having Saw imprison them, but not her, hadn't been entirely unexpected. He could only hope she was as determined to find her father as he was, and that she wouldn't simply continue on from there without him. She was out of the Imperial prison and a long way from the Alliance's reach. He didn't doubt she could slip into the shadows nearly as well as he could and just disappear. She probably could even have talked Saw into letting her take the Imperial pilot with her. Cassian she could have left to rot or die – whichever Saw chose. Yet, he hadn't been entirely convinced she would seize the chance. Had that swayed him?

Yes, when he escaped Saw's cell there was still the possibility she would prove useful. That much was partly true. So how did that explain his inability to pull the trigger when he easily had Galen Erso in his sights, several times. Just one more mission, not unlike any other. Had he been swayed by her avowance of seeing her father's message, her claim that Erso had laid a trap that could be exploited? If it was true, certainly that would be worthwhile to know. But his orders had not changed. His commanding officer didn't deem Galen Erso's life worth the risk. Why had he hesitated?

He saw again in his mind's eye her face, flush with fervor. Absolutely certain that her father was not willingly serving the Empire. Somehow, in that moment, a tiny forgotten part of him he had long ago buried deep inside peeked out, and believed. Wanted to believe. That tiny part of him wanted to give a father back to the vulnerable little girl he saw lurking in her eyes. Even wanted it enough to go against orders. Despite that, he had still gone. In spite of arguments and K-2's unhelpfully accurate remarks, he had stuck to his duty and gone up on that ridge intending to kill Erso. And if he had, he might as well have put a laser bolt in her head as well. Her spirit, her fire, all that she was would have shattered and died in that moment. And something inside him would have died forever also.

In the end, it hadn't mattered. The Alliance took the choice out of his hands with their attack. He understood why they had come. Having lost contact with Cassian, they would have assumed the worst, and Draven would have sent the squadron to finish the job in his stead. He even understood that by the time he tried to call them off it was likely too late to stop the attack. He accepted all of that as inevitable.

What he hadn't been able to accept was leaving Jyn on that platform, to die with her father or be taken prisoner. No, she wasn't of any further use at that point. There was no strategic advantage, and rescuing her from an Imperial landing platform even made her a liability, putting both Cassian and K-2 in danger. Any other mission, he would have gotten out of there fast, using the attack to cover his escape in the stolen shuttle, and never looked back. Instead, he found his feet carrying him toward the platform, not away.

What had he hoped to accomplish? Even if they did manage to escape, he knew she would figure it out. Would know he had lied. Would hate him. But if he had simply left her to whatever end, he would have hated himself. And that was a truth he would never have escaped for the remainder of his days.

All these years he had been part of the Rebellion, trained and honed to be very, very good at what he did. Weakness wasn't an option. Failure wasn't an option. Both of those meant lives were lost, and he would do whatever it took to prevent that. Until now. Until a fatal weakness had been revealed to him. One that had colored his actions and endangered his mission.

She was still watching him. Apparently she intended to wait as long as it took to get an answer.

"I couldn't leave you behind."

It wasn't enough. It didn't even begin to cover his reasons, reasons he was only starting to understand for himself. But it was the only explanation he had to offer just now. He was weak. She made him weak. He rubbed wearily at his face, finally risking a glance in her direction.

She had looked away, but the tension he had felt in her had eased, and she leaned back against the wall. His response must have been enough. After a moment, she shifted position slightly, causing her arm to press against his. Though she took no apparent notice, warmth oozed through him and his muscles began to unbunch as well.

Maybe having a weakness wasn't so terrible. Maybe it just meant that, despite all he had done, he still retained some humanity after all.

1-3-18

THE END

A/N2: From the movie, you get the impression it all happens very quickly, with little time passing in between, including the space travel.

From the supplementary info in books and such, it appears that the entirety of Rogue One likely took about a week's time, allowing for travel between planets. Jedha and Scarif are farthest from Yavin, so maybe take 2 days of flight time. Wobani's location isn't known but they get back to Yavin the same day they rescue Jyn. Eadu's location isn't known, but it likely took the fighters 15 mins. or so to get there from Yavin (time it took for Jyn to climb the ladder). Presumably, Eadu lay in the flight path from Jedha to Yavin.

All that said, matching a week's time with what is seen on screen is a challenge. However, in the interest of using that travel time for doing these gap-fillers, I've revised the above to allow for the trip to Scarif taking much longer than the movie and this story originally implied. So, if you read it before and are re-reading it, no you aren't mistaken – some of it has changed.

End Note: Hey! Something's different! Right you are. I decided to make these one-shots into chapters rather than individual stories. If I do any multi-chapter stories in this world, I'll make them stand-alone, but grouping the one-shots this way will make it easier for you to find/read them. And it allows me to reuse titles (*grin*) I had originally called this Rogue One: Weakness simply because I had already used the title of Weakness for a different story and couldn't use it again. But I can use it as a Chapter title!