A/N: First of all, apologies for how long this chapter took. Two things slowed me down: figuring out just what sort of scene should transpire in the dream-sequence and then rewriting the infiltration/rescue scene twice. I ended up cutting out most of it in the end, because at just under 6000 words this chapter was just getting too damn long. I'm going to try for a weekly posting schedule, but obviously I can only deliver so long as my muse cooperates.

Second, a note about the usage of Spanish in this fic. I decided to utilize Spanish (because why not?) and felt that I could get away with doing so because Spain (and therefore Spanish, with all of its cultural/ethnic variations) does actually exist in this universe. So if you see that I've made a mistake with my Spanish, please correct me. I am not a native speaker, but I am at least capable of communicating at a conversational level. That being said, I do still make mistakes. So if you see something, feel free to let me know. You'd actually be doing me a favor!

Third, in relation to Cassian specifically, I decided to make his father American to account for the fact that "Cassian" is an Irish name, and "Andor" is a German one. Likewise, I named his sister "Sorcha" to continue with that pattern of an Irish first name. While I made his mother Mexican to account for Diego Luna's Mexican accent and for the fact that I will have Cassian speaking Spanish at points throughout this fic, if that wasn't already intuitive.

Anyway, thank you for your patience and thank you so much to everyone who has commented or left kudos so far! Your support keeps me going!

Recommended listening for this chapter: the X-Men: First Class soundtrack.

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Chapter 2: Rescue Ops

The pounding of a fist on the front door is enough to wake Cassian from a sound sleep; three solid thuds in rapid succession, repeating itself every few seconds would wake all but the most comatose of dreamers. Cassian had always been a light sleeper, and probably always would be. As such the six-year-old boy rubbed sleep from his eyes and sat up, casting a disoriented glance over to the crib where his sister, Sorcha, had just started to fuss at being woken so rudely. Swinging his legs over the side of his bed Cassian hopped down from the mattress, then padded quietly over to the bedroom door, opening it just a crack in order to peer through and see what was going on.

Cassian's mother and father hurried around their small apartment frantically, stowing one item or another and speaking in rapid-fire Spanish.

Cassian's parents had met a little over ten years prior to that night, when Cassian's American father had traveled to Mexico for work. While there, he had fallen in love with Cassian's mother, a native of Veracruz. They married two years later, bringing Cassian's mother to New York, where Cassian was born. About four years after that Cassian's sister had followed, and they'd lived in a suburb of New York ever since. Cassian's father was away frequently on work assignments, but it only made the time he was home all the more sweet for it. His mother told him that his father's work was important, that he was trying to change the world, so Cassian was proud even if he was sad whenever his father would kiss him goodbye.

But none of that could explain why there was someone pounding on their front door in the middle of the night…

"Cassian!" Cassian's mother hissed. She had spotted her son up and out of bed and she quickly crossed the room to reprimand him. "Get back in bed, and close the door!"

Hearing her mother's voice, Sorcha woke fully and started to cry, looking for attention.

"¡Ay, Dios mío! ¿Qué más puede salir mal?" Cassian's mother whispered under her breath as she brushed past her eldest child in order to comfort her youngest. Cassian watched with inquiring eyes as his mother lifted his sister out of her crib, and began bouncing her gently in the way that she liked. Usually this was enough to quiet his sister, Sorcha preferred her mother's comforting touch over any other. Tonight however, Cassian's mother did not adopt the typical beatific expression of contentment and love that she normally had when she held his sister. Her expression remained tight and strained, as if she were holding something back. Nor did Sorcha immediately quiet when she found herself lifted into her mother's arms, she continued to fuss even as her mother rocked her gently.

"Cassian." Cassian's father took his attention away from the sight of his mother cradling his sister. "Cassian, I need you to listen to me now." His father said as he crouched to come to eye-level with his son.

The energy between his parents was tense, and it was starting to infect Cassian too. "What's wrong, Papi?" The fact that his father didn't immediately leap to reassure him made Cassian even more uneasy.

The pounding on the door sounded again and Cassian's father snapped: "Alright, I'm coming!" before turning back to his son with a pained expression. "Cassian, no matter what happens; just know that I love you all - you, your sister, and your mother - very much. Do you understand that?"

Cassian nodded, tears beginning to prick the corners of his eyes, though he didn't know why.

"Diga me, Cassito. ¿Te comprende?"

"Sí, Papi. Yo comprendo." Cassian replied.

Cassian's father pulled him into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"Bueno."

"Jeron…" Cassian's mother said, her voice strained and her eyes wide with fear.

"Everything will be ok, Elena…"

With that, Cassian's father stood, ruffling Cassian's hair fondly, before stepping over to his wife and kissing her. Cassian still didn't understand why, but his mother was crying now, and it was scaring him. Sorcha reached out and wrapped her little arms around her father's neck as he pressed a kiss to her hair, then began to fuss again as he pulled away.

"Iré contigo." His mother said, and her expression was the same one she used when she was trying to convince Cassian or Sorcha to behave, it felt like an odd look for his mother to be giving his father now, but it seemed to work.

His father sighed and nodded in defeat. "Alright, but you'll stay up on the balcony, and if anything happens you run back inside and lock the door."

"Stay inside with your sister." They told him, placing Sorcha back into her crib. But the moment his parents had closed the front door, Cassian dashed from his bedroom at the back of their apartment, to the living room window in the front, where he could see his mother standing on the balcony and several strange cars in the parking lot below.

A few moments later Cassian's father emerged and walked into view, escorted by a large man with a shaved head and a black uniform. The stranger looked like the men on the news with the big guns, the ones who said things that Cassian didn't understand but which made his father so angry. The stranger positioned Cassian's father in front of the cars as several other men in similar outfits stepped towards them. They all stood around a man in a white coat, who Cassian recognized as one of the men from his father's work. Cassian wished he could hear what was going on outside, but the glass was too thick and he could just about make out their lips moving as they talked.

Suddenly, seemingly without warning, the man in the white coat pulled a gun out of his jacket, and shot Cassian's father twice.

Cassian didn't scream or cry or move a muscle, but he could hear his mother screaming. Cassian merely watched as the men with the guns got back in their cars and drove away, and as his mother ran down to cradle his father in her arms. The dress she was wearing stained red from the blood on the pavement.

Sorcha started crying from the other room as if sensing that something was wrong, but still Cassian didn't move. He couldn't, he was paralyzed to that spot and would remain that way for the next few hours, until his American grandparents came and physically lifted him away from the window.

After his family left that night, they never returned to that apartment. It wasn't too long after that when Cassian's mother brought them back to Mexico to live with his grandmother, far away from the tragedy and the pain.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Cassian woke with a start, his eyes flashing open and his breath coming in heaves. His clothes felt clammy with sweat and his bedsheets were tangled around his legs like restraints. He never screamed, never cried out when he had the nightmares. The few people who had seen it happen said that all he does is twitch and whimper in his sleep until he wakes with a particularly violent jerk. Cassian took their word for it, and thanked whatever deity listened to non-believers that he doesn't cry out.

Sitting up in bed, the sheets pooling around his waist, Cassian scrubbed his hands across his face; feeling the drag of his beard against his palms, feeling the contours of the ridges of his brows and cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. These simple facts steadied him, made this reality more solid than the one he just escaped from. Finally fully awake, Cassian cast a glance around the room to survey the damage his dreams had caused this time. His nightmares might not make him scream or thrash about, but they didn't have to; his powers did more than enough damage to make up for it. This time it was relatively light; the desk had been thrown across the room and its contents were strewn about, but the chair had apparently been thrown against the ceiling judging by the cracks in the tiles and the splintered remains across the floor.

Cassian didn't have time to deal with it now; there was a mission scheduled to depart in an hour, one that weighed heavily upon his mind… thus the nightmares. The haunted dreams that used to come every time he closed his eyes had all-but shuddered to a halt, and now only manifested under times of stress, but that meant whenever they did occur, they were all the more violent for his loss of control.

With a weary sigh, Cassian forced himself out of bed and into the en suite bathroom, gingerly picking his way across the floor in an effort to avoid the splinters. A private bunk was about as much luxury as the Alliance could afford to give to their higher-up operatives, and Cassian relished the fact that he had a private shower after years of using the communal wash rooms.

As he cleaned himself and dressed for the day, Cassian's mind wandered. He did not dwell on his nightmare, an old one by this point, one that he'd been psychoanalyzing for years; but rather his mind was sifting through corridors and access codes, all data that would be necessary for the success of the day's mission. It was a rescue op mission he was tasked with leading today, and the team had been hand-selected by Senator Mothma and Director Draven to maximize the efficiency.

An Alliance operative had gone missing.

Unfortunately this was not an uncommon occurrence, such things went with the territory of espionage and special ops work. But Bodhi Rook had gone missing during an undercover mission, where he was posing as a lab-tech in a facility that was suspected as being under Sith Industries' control. Rumor also had it that this facility was part of the project that was developing some sort of weapon to be used against the Alliance and indeed, all Superhumans. Bodhi's mission was simply to confirm the intelligence that had been passed along, and then get out as quickly as possible. When Bodhi had missed his check-in time his mission operator got nervous, when Bodhi failed to get in contact for a full 24-hours after missing his check-in, the alarm was sounded and a rescue team was assembled.

It was now Cassian's job to see Bodhi home safely. Though why Bodhi had been selected for that mission at all, Cassian had no idea. He was not an intelligence operative, he was a pilot. What's more his temperament was too nervous to lie convincingly, and his powers were not ones which would have marked him as being particularly useful to this mission either. He was however, invaluable when placed behind the controls of a quinjet, and had saved countless operative's lives with complex maneuvers that averted attention or avoided being seen at all. Most of the Alliance owed Bodhi their life from one mission or another and the list of volunteers to retrieve him had been long. Cassian's success rate for missions had ultimately been the thing that had put him in command of the rescue op. Though he and Bodhi were not particularly close, Cassian could be counted on to do everything in his power to get Bodhi home.

Stepping out of the shower Cassian wiped down the fogged-up mirror with a towel and stared at his own reflection. His hair was getting too long again; the front hung down past his ears if he didn't keep it swept back. His beard was in need of a trim too. It wasn't bad enough yet that it made his appearance conspicuous (the absolute worst possible thing that his appearance could be as an intelligence agent), but anyone who looked at him would see a man twice Cassian's actual age due to the unkempt hair and bags beneath his eyes. Fortunately, it was not his appearance that made him an effective agent. In fact, his apparent lack of vanity spoke all the more highly of how thoroughly he had dedicated himself to this fight.

Ever since he learned what it was that his father actually did for a living, Cassian had vowed to follow in Jeron Andor's footsteps. Even more so when his own powers has manifested, and his father's fight for acceptance and the safety of all Superhumans had become Cassian's own. (Much to his mother and sister's chagrin.)

At the thought of his few remaining family members, Cassian pulled on the bathroom mirror that doubled as the door to a medicine cabinet. In that small space Cassian stored his razor blade and shaving cream, as well as a stick of deodorant but more importantly, a photograph. This was one of the few personal touches to Cassian's quarters; a small, faded, dog-eared photograph of his mother and father holding him and his sister. Cassian stared at the photograph, running his thumb across the well-worn paper, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Esto es para ti, Papi."

Sentimentality was not something that Cassian often afforded himself, a few photographs in his bunk and that was it. Nor could he afford much by way of human connection. Sorcha was constantly berating him to call more, to visit more, describing to him how he broke their mother's heart for not showing up for Christmas for the second year in a row. But this work was important, the cause was important. Were it not for the Alliance, Sorcha would not be able to live and work as she did, with freedom and surrounded by a family who loved her. Everything Cassian had ever sacrificed by way of the blood shed and years spent in the service of the Alliance had been for her and other Supers like her, who simply wanted to live their lives in peace. Cassian would give anything - had already given everything he'd been asked for – in order to see that dream achieved.

"Paging Agent Cassian Andor." A hollow metallic voice announced from the speakers that were wired throughout the Alliance facility. "Requesting Agent Andor's presence in the Situation Room. Repeat: requesting Agent Andor's presence in the Situation Room for mission debriefing."

Throwing on the first clean clothes that he came across, and the last few items he would need into a duffel bag, Cassian cast one last look around the room before switching off the light and departing.

The Alliance Situation Room was a large space filled with screens that were monitored 24/7 for activity. Some spaces were reserved for Operators, who would direct missions remotely and monitor their progress, sending evac when necessary or requesting backup when available. It was also where missions were planned and debriefed. The other members of Cassian's team were already present when he arrived. Chirrut Îmwe stood next to his partner and husband Baze Malbus, neither of whom ever went on a mission without the other. Kay, Cassian's typical partner on missions, was also present; standing off to the side and observing with his usual mix of attentiveness and apparent boredom. Cassian went to stand next to Kay, as they waited for Director Draven to start the debriefing.

"Right, gentlemen now that you're all here, let's get started." Draven said, with his typical lack of dissembling. "In one hour you will all board a quinjet and be transported to the Alliance base closest to the target location, in this case it will be the New York Alliance headquarters about two miles southeast of the research facility. Upon arrival a van will be waiting for you with the proper documentation and uniforms to get you into the target facility. Agent Kay, you know your duties –"

Before Draven could continue Kay interrupted him. "Sync with the mainframe and extract what I can, and direct field operations from the van. What I always do, no?"

Cassian had to cough to cover his laugh as Draven merely stared at Kay blankly, unable to recognize when Kay was joking or not.

"Correct… Agent Îmwe, Agent Malbus and Agent Andor; after Agent Kay locates Rook's cell, your job is to infiltrate the facility and make your way to sub-basement 3 were prisoners are kept. If Kay finds that there are any other Supers in captivity you have the Council's permission to take them with you, provided that it will not jeopardize the success of the primary mission objectives. Once you retrieve Rook, return to the van, and get back to the checkpoint as quickly as possible. Minimize hostile casualties as much as you can." This was spoken almost directly to Baze, who merely grunted his understanding if not his agreement.

"Gentlemen, it's a simple mission on paper, but remember you are the rescue team. If anything goes wrong there is no back up, and there will be no further rescue. You were selected because you are our best, and the information that Mr. Rook has procured for us is vital for the continued success of the Alliance's mission. Good luck out there. Dismissed."

With that Draven turned and left the Situation Room, leaving the four men who would be embarking on the mission to stare at each other awkwardly.

Cassian had never worked with Chirrut and Baze before. But they were two of the oldest Alliance operatives still on field duty, as such they were akin to living legends. Both had turned down numerous promotions and retirement plans in order to keep going. Although nowadays, Chirrut was mainly a talent-trainer at the Alliance headquarters' school for young Supers, and Baze was a head of the complex's security. Both were Supers themselves, and had long and impressive lists of completed missions in their dossiers.

"Agent Malbus, Agent Îmwe, it's an honor to finally have the chance to work with both of you."

Chirrut grinned in an uncanny way that seemed to light up the whole room. "No need for such formalities with us, Agent Andor. Why do you think we stopped accepting promotions? All those medals were weighing me down, and making Baze clank while he walked. Frankly, it was making him a target…"

"I'm the target?" Baze sputtered in a way that suggested Chirrut's choice of words were an intentional dig, and that this was an on-going argument that the two had been having for at least as long as they'd known each other.

"'Chirrut' and 'Baze' suit us just fine." Chirrut said, ignoring his husband.

"And yet you call Cassian, 'Agent Andor.'" Kay said, pointing out the obvious discrepancy.

"That's different." Chirrut replied quickly. "He's our superior officer..."

Kay huffed as if he didn't quite accept that answer and Cassian found himself fighting down a smirk.

"You may call me whatever you like." Cassian said.

"Very well, Agent Andor." Chirrut said, still smiling.

"Right, well if all the pleasantries are out of the way, could we get a move on please?" Kay said impatiently, starting to walk towards the exit.

Cassian cast Chirrut and Baze an apologetic glance.

"Is he always like that?" Asked Baze as they began to follow Kay towards the quinjet hangar.

"Unfortunately. It's a by-product of his genius," Cassian replied, "he's brilliant with computers but never really worked out how to talk to people. If he wasn't so good at what he does, I suspect Draven would have strangled him by now…"

"And what does he do?" Chirrut asked.

A small smile tugged at the side of Cassian's mouth and he gave a small huff of amusement. "It would be better for you to wait and find out…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

An hour later the quinjet touched down on the landing pad of the Alliance's main headquarters in New York City, and a few minutes after that they're crammed into the back of a van driving through Manhattan's near-constant rush-hour traffic.

Cassian dosed while they drove, his head lolling on his shoulders. A good operative could snatch a few moments sleep anywhere, under any conditions, and a solid uninterrupted hour where Cassian had nothing better to do but twiddle his thumbs and wait was a luxury he was not often afforded. Though it was not long before the dreams came again, and Cassian jerked awake while they're still twenty minutes away from their destination.

He considered going back to sleep, but Chirrut seemed intent on a conversation.

"You have bad dreams, Agent Andor?" The blind-man asked.

Cassian wondered how he knew. "It's nothing. They won't affect my performance on this mission."

Chirrut gave one of his smiles, an enigmatic one this time. "That's not what I asked… You seem to carry a lot of darkness and sorrow with you. It may not affect the mission today, but there is more to life than just Alliance missions."

There isn't for me… Cassian almost said, but bit his tongue at the last second. Chirrut inclined his head and huffed as if he'd heard it anyway, and Cassian wondered for a moment if the man was telepathic on top of everything else that was different about him.

Cassian was ready to drop the subject but it seemed that Chirrut had not exhausted himself of words just yet. "If you ever feel that you would like to talk about it, I've been told that I'm a good listener…" He said, finishing off with a sly grin.

Cassian could have almost laughed at the obvious joke, but he was simply too unsettled by Chirrut's words to do anything more than offer a nod and a tight smile. Talking about his feelings was simply out of the question, with Chirrut or with anyone else. To talk about his feelings would mean he would then have to acknowledge them, and to acknowledge them would be to feel them, and to feel them would be to lose control… Bad things happened when Cassian Andor lost control.

"Leave him be." Baze said quietly to his husband, and Cassian didn't know which was worse: Chirrut somehow being able to read his mind, or Baze, who definitely was not telepathic, knowing that it had affected him negatively.

They remained silent for the rest of the ride, but Cassian couldn't find sleep again after that.

The facility they were tasked with infiltrating was in the middle of a warehouse district on the west-side of Manhattan. It was the perfect kind of area to hide an illegal research facility, no one frequented the area except to collect or deposit cargo. Even then, truckers were - generally speaking - not curious folk; preferring to finish their job and get paid rather than wondering what was going on in that one warehouse with the heightened security.

To the credit of whatever organization was behind its existence, the facility looked identical to every other warehouse along that side of the river. A large rectangular building, with wide windows and large bay doors for loading shipments onto trucks. The only differences were the armed guards posted outside, and the addition of a smoke-stack on the roof that belched white vapour.

The intelligence they were given turned out to be good, and the passcodes they used to get through the gates were accepted, as were the fake security badges for Sith Industries that the Alliance used for deep-cover missions.

At least the rumour that this was actually a Sith Industry lab could now be confirmed.

Once past the first level of security, Kay parked them towards the back of the building. Then the four began to prepare for their mission, with Cassian and Baze slipping on a lab coats and Chirrut climbing into a hazmat suit in order to hide his sightless-eyes. Simultaneously Kay strapped himself into a chair that connected to a series of computers, and slipped on a futuristic looking helmet covered in wires.

"Is this what he does?" Chirrut asked referencing his earlier question, his ear turning towards the pile of machines inquisitorially.

"It is, but first - Kay before you sync up, let's make sure the comms are working." Cassian said.

Kay sighed as if greatly inconvenienced by standard procedure. "Very well. This is Strike 4 checking in. Codename: Singularity, standing by."

Cassian went next. "This is Strike Leader checking in. Codename: Fulcrum, standing by."

Then Chirrut. "This is Strike 2 checking in. Codename: Daredevil, standing by."

Then finally Baze. "This is Strike 3 checking in. Codename: the Guardian, standing by."

Even after nearly a dozen years using them, Cassian still felt foolish having to go by a codename during missions. It seemed like something out of a comic book, but then again… He was a man with telekinetic powers surrounded by similarly super-powered individuals.

"All the comms appear to be working, Fulcrum. Do I have permission to proceed?" Kay said, giving Cassian a dour look.

Cassian simply nodded in response and Kay adjusted himself in his seat, getting into a more comfortable position.

"Strike Team this is Singularity; starting sync in ten seconds… nine… eight… seven…"

Baze leaned closer to Cassian as the countdown continued. "What is he doing?"

Cassian whispered back. "This is Kay's talent. There's something about the way his brain functions that allows him to synchronize with sufficiently complex computers. He's going to be our man on the inside - literally, since this whole facility is run through a central processor."

"Three… two… one… zero… Sync engaged."

Kay's body jerked once, twice, then a third time before going limp, his eyes staring wide but unseeing as his mind was elsewhere entirely. It was in these short moments that Cassian's heart always lodged in his throat, because if Kay didn't give any indication that the sync had been successful it meant that he might have gotten lost in the process, or was stuck in the machine with no way of telling them how to fix it. Just the thought of losing Kay to this was enough to set Cassian's pulse pounding. They'd been working together as partners on missions for almost six years now. It was the kind of relationship that you couldn't replace. A bond had developed despite Kay's ornery nature and Cassian's defensiveness. Kay was one of Cassian's few weak spots, and even the use of Kay's powers threatened it.

"Sync successful. Strike Team do you copy?" came Kay's voice over the comms, though his lips did not move and Cassian breathed a sigh of relief, unclenching the fist he had not realized he'd made.

"That's wonderful!" Baze exclaimed, clapping his hands together once, clearly impressed.

Chirrut however, still looked confused. "I don't…"

"I have moved my consciousness from within my own body into the digital mainframe of these computer processors. So long as Cassian can find a port to patch me into the facility's computer systems, I should be able to explore the facility ahead of you to locate Bodhi Rook and then aid in your escape. I might also be able to see what it is that the Sith have been devising in those laboratories if we get very lucky. But chances of that occurring are less than 20%."

"Incredible." Chirrut said, simply.

"Thank you." Kay replied. "Now I suggest you get a move on. The longer we dally here, the longer Bodhi is in unfriendly hands. Do not worry about me, I can still drive the truck in this state." As if to illustrate this fact, Kay turned the engine over and revved it a few times.

It was enough of a warning to get the team out of the truck and on their way into the building. Being a Saturday very few employees were around, mostly just guards, and once they got past the front door no one really asked questions about their presence. The most frustrating thing was that it took Cassian a while to find a suitable terminal from which to patch Kay into the system, but eventually Cassian did find a suitable computer and quickly attached a small blue-tooth capable device that Kay could connect to from the van.

"Took you long enough." Kay grumbled over the comms. The lights in the room flickered once as Kay found his way inside, and they waited for his instructions, trying their best to look like a group of scientists taking a break. "Scanning data banks for target's location now…" Came Kay's voice, though his next words struck a chord of fear into Cassian's heart. "Singularity to Strike Team… Something is wrong."

"Kay?" Cassian said gripping his comm link, and dropping his partner's codename in alarm. "What's happened? What's going on? Get out of there!"

"No, I'm fine. But mission-target appears to no longer be in this facility…"

That was not good news, it meant that Bodhi could be literally anywhere by this point. Cassian and Baze shared a look.

"What do you mean?" Cassian asked, in hopes that Kay would clarify his point to give them better news.

"According to facility data records, there was a raid not three days ago… Several Supers being held here were all taken by the infiltrators at the time. Our mission's primary target was among those taken."

"Taken by who?" Cassian snapped. "What infiltrators? Alliance operatives?"

"No, not the Alliance. Judging by the security footage they appear to have been members of Saw Gerrera's Partisans."

Cassian swore. Saw Gerrera was not friendly with the Alliance, having broken with them years ago over the debate surrounding Supers' role in the world. The Alliance believed in cooperation and mutual protection, Saw believed that the only way for Supers to survive in the world was for them to separate themselves from the rest of it, and guard themselves against outside interference. He was a radical, and according to his dossier: highly dangerous and volatile, apparently content to be at war with the whole world. Saw spent most of his time defending and building up an island along the mid-Atlantic ridge that he had claimed as his own, citing it as 'new land for new humans.' It was hard to say whether Bodhi was better off with the Sith, or with Saw; who would inevitably see the pilot as a traitor to their kind for being part of the Alliance.

"So this whole mission has been for nothing?" Baze asked.

"Not for nothing." Cassian said, "Strike team to Singularity; are there any other targets suitable for extraction on the premises?"

A pause. "Affirmative. Three secondary targets located in the western corridor of level three."

"Then if nothing else, we'll get them out." Cassian said.

"Fulcrum, wait, there is another - but this can't be right…"

"What is it?"

"The records show that one of their operative teams has brought in Jyn Erso…" When no indication that the significance of this individual was understood, Kay elaborated. "The daughter of Galen Erso?"

Chirrut made a soft noise, like he had been struck. But when Baze turned a concerned eye on him, Chirrut waved him off dismissively. "I'm alright." He said. "It's nothing."

"What is she doing here?" Cassian asked Kay a bit redundantly.

"I would imagine the same as everyone else, Alliance records state that she is a Super, as was her mother… Shall she be included in the rescue mission too? She's being held at the opposite end of the facility."

That posed some difficulty, this mission would require speed as much as stealth. They likely wouldn't have time to sweep the whole facility, and then get back to the van without reinforcements arriving. As it was, they were going to risk engaging with the facility's security teams to get the prisoners out. But Cassian knew the Alliance would want Jyn Erso brought in, though the idea of leaving the other prisoners behind didn't sit well with him either.

Once more Chirrut reacted in a way that Cassian did not fully understand. "We are not leaving her here." He insisted, and it was the determination on his face that convinced Cassian as much as anything else.

After a moment's pause to consider his options, Cassian spoke once more into the comm, "Strike team to Singularity; can the prisoner, Jyn Erso, walk without assistance?"

"Security footage shows that she has not been injured in any significant way, so it is not unreasonable to assume that she is able to walk under her own power." Kay replied.

"Then lead her out of here, Kay. Baze, Chirrut and I will get the others. Have her rendezvous with us back at the truck."

Cassian thought he heard a sigh. "Very well. I will need to cut power to the building in order for us to free the prisoners." Kay seemed to hesitate. "They are wearing shock collars…"

The reactions of the team to this information was varied; Baze swore, Chirrut offered up a prayer, Cassian said nothing for several moments before closing his eyes and taking a steadying breath.

"Shut it down." Cassian growled, tension visible in every line of his body. This wasn't the first time he had come across examples of Sith Industries treating Supers like animals, but it didn't make Cassian any less angry for all that it wasn't the first. "Do whatever you have to do to disable the collars, we'll take care of the rest." Only the most advanced of security measures could stand up to the force of Cassian's telekinetic abilities, part of the reason why he'd been selected for this mission, and a fact he intended to make use of with relish.

"Understood." Kay replied, at which point the comm link went dead, as Kay devoted his energies towards manipulating the security systems to begin the extraction process.

Chirrut was once more regarding Cassian without actually looking at him, and this time Cassian didn't care if Chirrut could feel his anger. Let him, there was no shame in this kind of outrage. It wasn't the kind that would make him lose control, in fact, this moral indignation would lend a level of focus that Cassian would only benefit from.

"Leave the disguises, they won't be of any use to us once the lights go out." Cassian said to the others, shucking off his own lab-coat. "But keep the badges with you, they might still come in handy. Here's what we're doing," Cassian stepped closer to the other two men to outline their plan, "We head down to the sub-basement fast and quiet. We silence any guards that we encounter, as they will only raise the alarm on us and call in reinforcements."

Baze looked particularly pleased by this development.

"We get the prisoners out, and then get back to the van as quickly as possible. Understood?"

"What about Jyn Erso?" Chirrut asked.

"Trust me, Kay can handle it. Almost every piece of equipment in this facility is tied into a computer in some way, Kay has control over all of it. He can get her out much more easily than we would be able to."

This answer seemed to satisfy Chirrut as he inclined his head and relaxed.

"Just focus on what we're doing." Cassian advised. "Getting out of here won't be easy, so stay close. If someone gets left behind we're leaving without them."

Both Baze and Chirrut nodded at this, though something about the way they stood told Cassian that neither would leave the other under any circumstance.

At that same moment the facility plunged into darkness, followed by the cries of alarm from several members of staff on the floor. "That's our cue." Cassian said, glancing around. It wouldn't be long before they encountered their first hostile, they needed to get moving.

"May the Force be with us." Chirrut said.

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A/N: So the one plus side to the editing process for this chapter taking so long is that it means that chapter 3 is already drafted. So once it's edited I will put it right up.

A note about Saw Gerrera's island: I've specifically modelled Saw Gerrera in this fic after Magneto from the X-Men. (Although I've forgone the extremist-villain trope, in favour of one that more closely resembles Saw's role in the Star Wars Universe.) In one of the many plot lines involving the X-men, Magneto gets mixed up ruling an island nation called Genosha. So I've created a similar island nation along the mid-Atlantic ridge (similar to Iceland) where Saw could start his super-human colony. As such, it is an island entirely of my own design, and a complete work of fiction.

Just one last reminder, seeing kudos and reading comments really does keep me motivated for writing this fic. Even something as simple as "Liked it!" or "Can't wait to see what happens next!" is just as motivational as a longer comment. So please remember to feed your poor fic writer!

Next up: Jyn gets rescued, but is not happy about it.