Cassian's mission doesn't go as planned when he suddenly takes ill a long way from base and no help to be had.

A/N: As you all know, the problem with Rogue One is that the outcome and the timeframe limit the possibilities if you want to have the main characters interacting (at least, they do if you keep to canon). In general, I try to stay pretty close to canon when writing in someone else's world, so while this scene is never mentioned in canon, it might have happened. Eventually, if I get inspired with a story line, I might go AU, but for the moment, I'll keep to the script. Note: I'm behind the learning curve on Rogue One, so most of what I know is just from the movie. My apologies if there is something mentioned in the extended canon that contradicts something that I write.

Ripple Effect

His stomach heaved and churned as though he was in a ship that had lost its stabilizers. From the feel of it, his insides were trying to relocate to the outside. Not good. He didn't have time for this right now. Just let him finish the mission and he would take time back at base to be sick. Not here. Not now.

Another spasm shot across his mid-section, and he broke out in a cold sweat. His heart sank. Mission completion was starting to look unlikely. Maybe if he found somewhere to sleep for a few hours, he could manage. Just then his stomach cramped and he dove over near a wall, leaning on it for support as he emptied his stomach.

When finally the purging ended, he put a shaky hand to his forehead, then let out a groan. A fever. He did not need this right now. He was very sorry that this was a solo mission; not even K had accompanied him. Whatever happened, he was on his own. His contact wasn't likely to be sympathetic and offer aid – he was barely willing to provide information.

Cassian looked around, relieved at least that the alley was empty except for him. The Empire didn't control this city, but that didn't mean he wasn't in danger from a criminal element. If they discovered his weakness, he wouldn't stand much of a chance. Stand – that was the operative word. Right now the wall was providing most of his support, not his legs. But he couldn't stay here, out in the open. He needed to find somewhere secluded, and reasonably safe, if he was to try to sleep this off.

With slow, measured breaths, he pushed himself upright. His stomach churned at even that slight movement. The cold sweat returned, and everything went black.

He came to as someone was rolling him onto his back; sluggishly he batted at the hands rifling his pockets. The hands stilled for a moment, and just then his stomach cramped again. Hastily he rolled to the side and vomited again and again.

There was silence behind him. Had his attacker decided not to finish picking his pockets and leave him here to suffer whatever ailed him?

When his head cleared somewhat, he ran a shaky hand over his face. Luckily, it wasn't freezing, but it was uncomfortably cool. The chill air was making him even colder with the sweat drenching him. He scrubbed at his mouth with the sleeve of his coat. It was all he could manage for the moment. He'd have to try to clean up later.

"Come on," a voice said behind him, tugging at his arm.

Female. Sounded young, though the voice was muffled so he couldn't be sure. "What?"

"Come on. You can't stay here – you'll be dead by morning." The voice paused, "From any number of possible causes."

He didn't doubt that. He knew this town well enough to know that sprawling in the streets for any length of time was not a good idea. There were many who would take advantage of the situation.

"I know a place. It isn't great, or warm, but…it is off the street."

He peered blearily up at her, but a scarf covered the lower part of her face. All he could see was a pair of light-colored eyes. In the dim light, he couldn't tell if they were blue or green. She tugged on his arm. "Come on," she said, more insistently this time.

Cassian was used to making snap decisions, so he decided to accept her help. With her assistance, he managed to stagger to his feet, but then had to lean on the wall to catch his breath. His stomach was still roiling, but for the moment it seemed to have settled down. More problematic was his lightheadedness. He wasn't sure he wouldn't pass out again if he tried to walk.

She seemed of the same opinion. "Put your arm around my shoulders. I'll help you. You can barely stand."

He gave in to the inevitable. Right now, whatever she instructed, he would have to go along with it. He wasn't in any position to argue.

She was stronger than he would have expected, given she was at least half a foot shorter than he was. Good thing, as she was practically all that was keeping him on his feet. He stumbled along beside her, but wasn't able to pay much attention to where she was taking him. Still, he didn't think she had Imperial leanings. So long as she wasn't taking him to some local gang leader, he might be all right.

They came to a ramshackle building that was nearly falling down, but she didn't slow. That seemed to be their destination, though he had reservations about how safe it was to go inside. She guided him to a boarded up doorway, but moved some of the boards aside, enough for them to squeeze through. Warily she took a look around before following him in, clearly not wanting to be seen. Fine by him. If she was a threat, he might stand a chance. Anything more and he was a goner.

She steered him around debris, deep into the building. Just when he thought he couldn't stand up a second more, she came to a room where the debris had been shoved aside to leave a clear area. Taking him over near a wall, she released him to let himself down to the floor.

The building, even this deep into it, didn't provide much more warmth than there had been outside, but he wasn't sure a fire was wise. If she had used this room much before, she must have been of the same opinion. He saw no evidence of a fire ever having been lit in the open space.

"Thanks," he mumbled, letting his head rest against the wall, before finally laying down on his side. The effort to get here had taken a toll and he was nauseated and dizzy again.

Something dropped beside him with a thunk, and he blinked his eyes open to see a broken pail. "You might need that," she advised. He merely raised his hand slightly in response.

With a sigh, she took a seat on a pile of broken boards, staring at him. After a moment, she must have reached a decision. She went over to a pack set against another wall and pulled out a threadbare blanket. Coming closer, she hovered briefly, then dropped it over him. The hood of his coat provided something to cushion his head on the floor, and the blanket was appreciated even if it didn't provide much warmth.

"Thanks," he said again. There wasn't a whole lot more he could say, and right now he wasn't inclined to any sort of conversation.

"Yeah," was all she replied, returning to the pile of wood and settling herself again.

He watched her curiously, but then his eyes drifted shut and he was out.

xxx

His rest was fitful. Periodically he would come awake, his stomach churning, and heave into the bucket she had found. When it ended, he would fade back into oblivion. It might have happened twice or a dozen times – he couldn't keep track of that, or the passage of time. Each time, the pail had been emptied from his previous episode.

When next he was awake with any real awareness, she was sprawled on her back on the woodpile, the scarf still covering the lower part of her face. He didn't know if it was for warmth or to conceal her identity. Either was possible. His eyes flicked around the room, but it didn't tell him much. There was a little light coming in from a hole in the ceiling and another in the wall, high up.

His mission. He couldn't stay here. Hopefully he hadn't missed the rendezvous. His gaze went back to the girl. He wasn't sure if she was awake or not, but he cleared his dry throat with difficulty and called with as much strength as he could muster, "What day is this?"

Her head turned toward him. Not asleep, then. After a moment, she said, "Same day that I found you."

Good. That was good. He still had time. "I need you to wake me at dawn. I have to meet someone."

She sat up and gazed skeptically down at him. It was evident she doubted he could manage it, but she didn't argue. He had his own doubts, but the meeting was important. He licked his lips, trying to bring some moisture to his parched mouth. It didn't help.

The girl rose and brought a waterskin to him. When he struggled to rise enough to take a drink, she slipped an arm behind him to help. After a couple of swallows, he made a face and gave it back. Brackish. She likely knew that, but had nothing better to offer. A cool hand appeared on his brow, and it was all he could do not to react by drawing away. He wasn't used to anyone touching him. He tried to avoid that.

"You still have a fever, but I think it's easing. These bugs tend to come and go quickly." With a groan, he slid back down to the ground and let his eyes slip shut again. He was asleep almost instantly.

xxx

Something – or someone – was poking his shoulder. Any other time, he would have come awake fast and taken them down. His body wasn't having any of that, though. Finally, he managed to drag his eyes open.

"You wanted me to wake you at dawn," she explained.

For a moment, his mind was blank as to who she was and what she was talking about. Then it came back to him. The mission. The meeting. He tried to push himself up, but his arms barely had the strength for it. She helped him sit up, leaning against the wall. Reaching to her right, she caught hold of something and held it in front of him. "Here. Try eating a little of this. See if your stomach will hold it."

The roll was dry and stale, and he wondered where she got it. He didn't recall seeing any food when she brought him in. Maybe it was in her pack.

"I took some of your credits," she said, causing his eyes to lift to meet hers.

"What?"

"I…I didn't have any credits for food. And you did. I figured you could spare a few, in return for my help. And you needed something to eat that might stay down." She gestured at the bread.

He nodded. So, she had finished going through his pockets. Not surprising. It would have taken some effort to find the credits, though. He kept them well concealed so they wouldn't get lost to pickpockets. Like her. He knew their tricks – he used them himself sometimes. He knew how to make their work difficult.

The nausea had slacked off, but he still felt newborn weak. Couldn't be helped. He'd have to manage. The food was only causing minimal discomfort so far. Go to the meeting, get back to the ship and get back to base. He could rest more there. "I have to go," he said, trying to rise.

His legs wouldn't cooperate, and she watched in amusement the several attempts he made before acknowledging the truth of his situation. "You aren't going anywhere. Not yet, anyway. What's so important?"

"I have to meet someone."

"So you said. Why's it so important that you have to rise from your sick bed to do it?"

He hesitated, then merely answered, "It just is."

She turned away, picking up a roll for herself and going to sit on the woodpile again. After several minutes had passed, she asked, "Want me to go for you?"

His eyes flicked up, surprised. Finally he told her, "Not a good idea. It could be…dangerous."

She nodded as if that did not surprise her. Then she fixed him with the most mesmerizing steely gaze he had ever seen. He'd never before met anyone who said more with their eyes than most people did with words. "I can take care of myself," she told him.

This was crazy. Send this girl, this child off to meet his contact? The man probably wouldn't even talk to her, and might even harm her if he suspected subterfuge. "No, bad idea. I have to be the one."

"Yeah, well, unless you can delay that meeting for a while, I don't think that's going to happen." Her gaze flicked over him.

She was right, unfortunately. Already he was in a cold sweat from sitting up this long, and though he didn't feel like he was going to vomit again, his stomach was still churning and his head was fuzzy. Probably she was safer facing his contact than he was. He'd never be able to defend himself if it came to that.

His gaze went back to her. A street urchin, apparently, but he had noticed she was strong. She probably had learned to defend herself if she had been on the streets any length of time. Maybe… No, it was crazy, and Draven would have his hide. Still, she didn't need to know anything much – just where to go and who she was looking for. The information he was to receive was a data file and she clearly had no means of accessing its contents. A simple pickup? His head was pounding making thought nearly impossible. One thing was clear. Either send her, or give up on the mission. He didn't have another option.

Cassian wasn't known for trusting others. In fact, he made it a point not to trust anyone. Made things easier. But it looked like, just this once, he might have to risk it.

"Okay. I'll tell you where to go. You're meeting a human named Vala. Big, bald, has a scar down the right side of his face. He won't be friendly. Tell him…tell him Jorgan sent you. He'll give you something to bring to me. No credits to exchange. Little conversation. Just bring me the data file that he'll give you. Hopefully give you. I don't know that he'll trust your being there in my stead."

"Vala. Jorgan. Data file. Got it. Where?" He gave her directions and she nodded to confirm she knew the place.

"The first bell sounds at seven hundred hours – that's when he expects me."

"Better get going then," she said, shoving to her feet.

"Uh…thanks." He wasn't sure what else to say. She hadn't given him her name since their first encounter.

"Won't be long." And she was gone

He laid back down, already questioning the wisdom of this. But, he had little to lose. The mission either failed completely or this worked.

xxx

When next Cassian awoke, he felt decidedly improved. Well, far better than he had, anyway. His head was clearer, not so fuzzy, and the dizziness had eased. The girl wasn't there. He hoped that wasn't a bad sign. Carefully he sat up, then rested, out of breath from the exertion. He vaguely recalled a cool hand on his forehead, and despite his aversion to such things, it had felt nice. It reminded him of when he was little— No, best not to go there. He had enough to deal with at the moment.

He glanced around the room with more alertness than he had been able to muster previously. For some reason it felt empty and deserted. His brow wrinkled in thought, but then his eyes fell on the items laid out on the floor near him. A waterskin, another roll carefully wrapped in a cloth, and the data file. The blanket the girl had laid over him was gone. So was she, he realized.

A sigh escaped as he picked up the data file. Well, at least he had this. A smile tugged at his mouth. Pity, really. If she had stuck around, he might have tried to recruit her. Looked like she might have been a good addition to the Rebellion's ranks.

xxxxx

Cassian jolted into consciousness. Every part of him ached. The fall itself was bad enough, but bouncing off support beams hadn't helped any. For a moment, he just laid on his back, wondering why he had been dreaming about that mission so long ago. He hadn't thought much about it since it took place. He was always too busy, and disinclined, to examine the past.

Awareness crowded in of his current situation. The Citadel Tower. The mission on Scarif. Wait – Jyn! He struggled to his feet. Krennic had gone after her, he was sure. Possibly with more deathtroopers. If they reached her before she could send the message to the fleet, this would all have been in vain.

Besides, he had a score to settle with Krennic – the man who had brought her so much pain in her life. Slowly, he began to climb, rung by agonizing rung.

The climb to the top seemed interminable, and getting through the opening and closing hatch even more challenging, given his physical condition. But Jyn needed him. He had no intention of failing her.

Krennic was there, as he feared, confronting her, finding out just who she was. But he stood between Jyn and the transmission terminal and had a blaster pointed at her. Cassian didn't wait for him to decide to use it – he took his shot. Not so accurate as he usually managed, but it dropped the man instantly. Jyn smiled at him in relief, then went to the terminal and broadcast the data. A dispassionate computer voice advised it was transmitting. Looked like Bodhi had reached the Fleet and they had gotten the Shield Gate down.

For a moment, Jyn almost went to make sure Krennic was dead, but he stopped her. The end was near. Even now, he could see the Death Star emerging above the station. That could only mean one thing – this planet, and everyone on it, was doomed. "Leave it."

With her help, although she was injured also, they struggled to the elevator and made their way to the planet surface. Both were too tired, and relieved at their success, to even speak. They were going to die – he knew that. Likely all their friends were dead already, or soon would be. But he and Jyn were together. He had lived most of his life keeping himself emotionally separated from everyone around him. He knew Jyn had tried to do the same thing, though with less success. He was glad neither of them had to face death alone.

Concern flashed in her eyes, and she lifted a hand to press against his cheek and then his forehead. Even with death imminent, she was worried about his condition. As her hand rested on his forehead, he had a flash of memory – that dream, that remembrance of long ago. "You," he breathed in astonishment.

Her gaze became puzzled.

"Four years ago, on Ord Mantell."

She smiled. "Yeah. I didn't think you remembered. You were pretty out of it. And it was too risky back then, so I never let you see my face."

"You completed my mission for me, and then just disappeared." There was a note of hurt in his voice.

"It was better that way. I suspected you might be a Rebel, and at that point in my life, I wanted nothing to do with the Rebellion."

"Then why help me?"

"Truth? I never figured it out, even for myself. I shouldn't have. But I couldn't walk away and just leave you there."

"Thanks."

She smiled and rested her forehead against his chest, just as the elevator dinged arrival and the doors slid open. "Let's get out of here," she murmured.

He just smiled and let the strong girl, who had become an even stronger woman, with the intriguing green eyes, and the oh-so-familiar face, lead him wherever she wanted. She'd earned his trust.

The End

1-7-18

End Note: Nothing else is ready at the moment, though I do have two more possibles in progress.