"There's no chance to fix the ship," Bodhi told them over the campfire. "Everything that enables flight capability? We essentially lost all of it, either in hyperspace or in this planet's atmosphere. Unless this planet's ocean spits out a fully operational starship, we may as well get comfortable."

They watched him somberly. Chirrut looked as though he wanted to say something uplifting, but thought better of it. Baze's eyes were firmly shut, his head resting in Chirrut's lap, but he frowned in displeasure at Bodhi's statement. Bodhi eyed them all nervously, his fingers idly snapping a twig, poking a burning ember reproachfully.

Cassian said nothing. He stared at the fire broodily, darkness shading his eyes. He was angry—Jyn could tell. His anger came through silence and buried emotions, whereas hers exploded everywhere like a firework. She nodded at Bodhi and leaned slightly against Cassian's shoulder. This broke his concentration in glaring down the fire and he glanced at her, but did not reject her warmth. Good. He better start getting used to it.

"There's nothing we can do get off the planet," Bodhi said hesitantly. "But—we may have another option."

Baze's eyes flicked open and Chirrut tilted his head. Cassian's eyes narrowed and Jyn blinked—this had not been a part of her conversation with Bodhi earlier.

He seemed to note this. "I didn't want to say anything till I was sure," He said apologetically. "But we might—we might be able to build a transmitter and send out a distress call. It would be…quite the undertaking as we would need to build it carefully so that it's only picked up by Rebel Alliance frequencies. If the Imperial Army hears our distress call…"

"Let them come," Baze bit out. "I still have a blaster. If that doesn't work, I'll tear them limb from limb." Baze was apparently feeling less than forgiving for the near-death experience his partner had endured. Chirrut snorted, but patted his shoulder reassuringly.

"Mm," Jyn said ruefully. "500 Stormtroopers against five of us? Not great odds."

"A hundred for each of us," Cassian said squarely and Bodhi looked at him nervously, unsure if he was kidding. Jyn couldn't tell either.

"How would we create this distress signal?" Chirrut asked. "This is a desolate place. Jedi came here to escape the galaxy—there wouldn't be any communication beacons or transmitters in the temple."

"You're right," Bodhi agreed. "I haven't found anything there. But I have found some old droid parts. They had a service droid at some point—a domestic droid perhaps, or maybe something that helped them garden and farm."

Jyn brightened. "Droids can transmit messages! And distress calls!"

"Low frequency ones too," Bodhi said eagerly. "Messages the Empire won't pick up. That may be our way out."

"One problem," Baze cut in, his voice dispassionate. "We don't have any droid programming software. We would need something to input into the droid—droid parts aren't enough."

Bodhi nodded glumly. Jyn exhaled slowly, her own gaze returning to the fire. Two steps forward, three steps back…

Cassian shifted next to her. She turned to see him digging in the front of his shirt pocket. His expression was neutral as he withdrew a small chip. Bodhi's eyes widened.

"Is that…?" He started to ask. Cassian nodded.

"I backed up K-2's programming," He said quietly. "A while ago."

Jyn's heart lurched. K-2SO…he had been destroyed keeping the Stormtroopers out of the archives. They would never have succeeded without his sacrifice. She reached out, her finger touching the edge of the chip, swallowing hard. K-2 would help them one final time.

"It won't be K-2," Cassian interrupted her thoughts. "Just his programming. Droids tend to develop personalities on their own. But at least we'll be able to transmit a distress beacon."

"Look, I don't want to give false hope," Bodhi said anxiously. "It's going to take a while to build this. We'll have to scavenge every bit of this planet and even then, this could take months. Maybe…maybe even years."

The words were dampening. The fire popped and crackled and Jyn picked up a twig of her own, poking the fire idly. Years to send out a distress call…and even then, who knows if the Rebellion would hear them? Or if they would have the resources to send a rescue team?

"It's not ideal," Jyn said finally. "But things rarely are. We've a lot to be grateful for. This is good, Bodhi. It's a chance, however remote."

"Not chance," Chirrut interjected. "The Force. We're alive, we're together, we're on a planet with oxygen, food, and water. The Force will help us get home. There's a reason we're on here."

Baze rolled his eyes. Oddly, he did not refute the remark though. Perhaps he'd seen too much—they all had, really. How else could they explain their survival? Midway through their undertaking on Jedha, all five of them had realized it amounted to a suicide mission. And yet they lived.

And yet they lived.

"Well, that's the whole of it," Bodhi sighed. "It's getting late. We ought to rest for now. Baze and Cassian are still healing."

"Yes," Jyn agreed. "Tomorrow we'll need to look into building a more covered shelter. We don't know how long this climate will last. Who knows what this planet's weather patterns will be like? We might have a blizzard or a monsoon for all we know. We ought to be prepared."

"Good thinking," Cassian said approvingly. "Bodhi's right. Let's get some rest."

Bodhi and Baze stood, stamping out their campfire. Chirrut and Jyn gathered up the remains of their food, some odd roasted vegetable that Bodhi claimed he recognized, and carefully stowed it away. It would not keep for long, but it would make an adequate breakfast. Bodhi believed that there were food storage outposts in different places on the island, for the hungry Jedi pilgrims. They just needed to find them.

The planet had three moons. Jyn's mother used to say that odd numbered moons were good luck for travelers. The stars twinkled comfortingly and Jyn gazed upwards, recognizing the familiar star systems. Wherever they were, at least she could distinguish enough constellations to guide her home. Not that she had a home anymore…

Well, that wasn't true, she thought suddenly. Welcome home, Cassian had told her once. Her home was right here. With her comrades in arms, her allies, her brothers. They were home. She exhaled at that, her stomach settling.

Bodhi handed her a long piece of cloth that looked as though it had been torn from the lining of a space suit. He'd managed to scrounge up an odd assortment of supplies from the wreckage—some scratchy old jackets, laser cartridges, food containers, artillery. There only seemed to be two legitimate blankets, however—not an enormous problem as the past two nights had been warm, with the rebels simply passing out in whatever patch of grass was unoccupied. Exhaustion took away the desire for comfort. Bodhi had given the two blankets to Baze and Cassian, who were the worst injured.

Jyn tested out the lining. It was thin, but she supposed it would be warm enough to suit, especially if she wrapped it around her bare arms. At least for now. She looked to make sure Bodhi had something similar and was pleased to find him burrowing into the ground like a woodland creature, nesting in his own scraps of cloth. She took off her boots, idly observing the dying embers of the fire. She noticed Cassian watching her, comfortably nestled in his functional blanket, lying on his side.

A cool breeze whipped by them and Jyn shivered. At this, Cassian spoke.

"Come here."

Her stomach flipped. She swallowed, glancing about her. Bodhi had already fallen asleep and it apparently had been no question that Baze and Chirrut would share a blanket. Softly, she tiptoed over to Cassian, lying next to him. He pulled her near to his chest, covering both of them with the blanket. She worried her bottom lip—she was a somewhat restless sleeper, suppose she kicked him and accidentally opened one of his wounds? But she couldn't resist his warmth, the way he wrapped an arm around her right after brushing a lock of hair from her face.

Jyn pressed a good-night kiss to his lips. His hand cupped her cheek, kissing her back, and she sensed he wanted to deepen the kiss—never mind their entire team were only a few feet away. Regretfully, she broke away from him, brushing her lips against his cheek, and letting her forehead fall against his chest. Sleep. He needed rest, not—exertion. She heard him grumble into her hair and she couldn't help but giggle.

XXXX

Morning came all too quickly. Soldiers woke early and Cassian was no exception. This planet had a yellow sun, which accounted for the amount of life it contained. He was tempted to sit up, but restrained himself—Jyn was still asleep, her head pillowed against his chest.

They were alive. They had barely any supplies, no way to contact the Rebel Alliance, but they were alive.

Death had been a constant bedfellow, a looming sword over his life for as long as he could remember. When death is your companion, you no longer fear it. He never regretted how he led his life. If his death meant any sort of victory for the rebellion, so be it. It was how his parents had died. He was proud to follow in their footsteps.

And yet they lived.

Their mission had succeeded. They had transmitted the Death Star plans, brought hope to the rebels. And now they would be stuck on this planet for God knows how long. The thought made him grind his teeth in agitation. He should be with the rebels, preparing to blast the Death Star out of the sky, not lying on a grassy hilltop on an abandoned planet, feeling utterly content.

Cassian felt intensely guilty for this contentment. What right did he have to feel at ease and happy when his brothers and sisters in arms could be dying?

Baze shifted. Cassian turned his head to see that he was not the only one who woke with the rising sun. Baze nodded at him in acknowledgement, gently shifting out from under Chirrut, who was sprawled across him like a cat. He went to the fire and struck flint together, probably preparing breakfast.

Feeling that he ought to help, Cassian slowly sat up, gently turning Jyn over so she wasn't sleeping on him anymore. She frowned at the absence of his warmth and curled into a small ball. The action made him smile and he carefully pulled the blanket over her.

He went to Baze. "Do you suppose whatever's living in that ocean is edible?"

Baze grinned at him. "Only one way to find out."

Cassian smirked as well. Bodhi had found dried meats in the temple as well, along with the pickled and jarred herbs in storage. The dried meats were iffy—they could have been there for the last thousand years for all they knew—but they were definitely some sort of fish. Which meant that the Jedi pilgrims had successfully eaten this planet's fish and vegetation.

No nets, but he decided to improvise. He took the flimsy lining Jyn had almost curled up with and walked down the hilltop to the shoreline. He waded into the shallows, glancing up towards the sky. They were extraordinarily lucky this planet had a yellow sun. Saltwater seas, green vegetation, remnants of civilization…they could've ended up somewhere a lot worse.

It had been years since he fished like this. It reminded him of stories his mother told, about how their family had owned land on a planet far away from here. His mother had loved swimming in their family lake and fishing with her brothers. Before the war, of course. Before fishing, hunting, and scavenging became a matter of survival, not recreation.

He was out of practice, but before long he had caught several fish-like animals in his makeshift net. He brought them back up the hill, where a campfire was burning, and Baze was preparing some sort of tea, using herbs he'd found in the temple. Chirrut must miss tea. Personally, Cassian preferred coffee, but that was asking a bit too much from an ancient Jedi settlement.

Bodhi and Jyn were up as well, speaking in low voices. Jyn was drawing something in the dirt with a twig, perhaps explaining how to build a sustainable shelter. Cassian sat down and examined his catch, carefully comparing each fish with the dried meat, discarding anything unrecognizable. Once finished, he cleaned and started to cook them over the fire.

"I'll eat first," He warned them all. "Just in case."

"Sounds like an excuse to get breakfast first," Chirrut joked. They all smiled grimly but watched carefully as Cassian took a few bites.

They tasted fine, with no immediate rashes or airway blockages. There was certainly an odd flavor to them, but nothing too different from the fish on Naboo or Coruscant or Alderaan. After ten minutes or so, Jyn took a small portion and passed around the rest of their breakfast. If the fish ended up poisoning them, they'd die together—at least that was a constant.

They ate in relative silence but Cassian noticed Bodhi seemed to be brooding more deeply than the others.

"Taste all right?" He prompted.

"Yeah, thanks," Bodhi licked his fingers. "Sorry."

"No secrets here," Baze pointed out and the group chuckled collectively.

"I'm just worried," Bodhi confessed. "About the rebellion. If they got the transmission, if they were able to get away, if they can destroy the Death Star."

"We're all worried," Jyn said gently, reaching over and squeezing his arm.

"It's natural," Cassian agreed. "We lost some of our best fighters getting those plans to them. Have faith."

Chirrut opened his mouth, perhaps to cite the Force, but before he could finish, Baze interjected grumpily:

"There is a moratorium on the amount of times you can bring up trusting in the Force."

They all laughed, including Chirrut, but there was a sense of heaviness over their shoulders. None of them liked being stranded here, unable to help the Rebellion. Bodhi seemed to be contemplating this, taking another bite of fish.

"I want to have faith," He said quietly. "But—well—have any of you seen Darth Vader?"

Jyn shivered at the name. But she shook her head, taking a long sip of tea. Baze shrugged and Chirrut raised an eyebrow, a silent commentary on how ridiculous it was to ask a blind man if they'd seen anyone.

"I've not seen him—in battle," Bodhi added hastily. "Just…in passing. I was only a cargo pilot, he had no reason to notice me but…it was almost as though he could sense my doubts with the Empire. I felt like I had seen death itself. He terrified me."

He let this sink in slowly. Cassian finished his meal.

"Once," Cassian said shortly. "One of my first missions."

Jyn started at this and looked at him questioningly. He sighed, closing his eyes. How old had he been? Fifteen? Sixteen? He lost track of his age a long time ago. War did that to you.

"My team was captured," He said shortly. "I escaped. No one else did."

Jyn inhaled sharply. "You escaped him?"

Cassian shook his head. Hardly. It had taken a while for him to realize that Darth Vader had allowed his broken, bleeding body to slip past them. He'd barely been a teenager. No, it was not the Force or his quick wits that had saved him that day—simply Darth Vader's shifting will.

His sister had cried when she saw him. Covered in his and his team's blood, barely able to stand, emerging from a hardly functioning shuttle pod. Everyone knew that Darth Vader rarely left survivors. But he had then—he let the youngest of their party live to tell the Rebel Alliance what had happened. To let them know that they would be utterly destroyed.

"There is no life in him," Cassian said bitterly. "There is just…hatred."

Jyn reached towards him, taking his hand. Small comforts. She had lost her family to the Empire, just as he. He appreciated that understanding.

"He was once a Jedi," Chirrut said unexpectedly.

Bodhi looked startled. "Darth Vader? I thought he was a Sith Lord."

Cassian frowned at Chirrut. "He was a Sith Lord. Everyone knows that."

Chirrut shook his head. "He was once a Jedi. One of the most powerful Jedi of all time. They believed…they believed he was the chosen one, the one meant to bring balance to the Force."

Jyn narrowed her eyes. "How do you know this?"

Chirrut's shoulders drooped. "I was not born on Jedha. I once…I once believed that I could become a Jedi. Before they were destroyed."

He did not seem inclined to elaborate further. Still, the news that Darth Vader was once a Jedi—one of those mythical knights of old that were defenders of peace and justice—was disquieting.

Finally, Bodhi spoke. "Do you think—do you think the Jedi might return?"

"No," Cassian flatly. "There's none left. If there were any left, they would've helped the Rebellion long ago. If they are here and they haven't helped, they're useless old relics of a former age, content to let the Empire rape the galaxy."

Chirrut trembled at this and Baze shot Cassian an angry glare. But Cassian didn't care. What was the use of talking about the Force and placing all your hope in a mythical Jedi order? People would be the ones to save them from the Empire, not Jedi.

"I'm going to scavenge," Cassian said shortly. "We need to build our shelter and start working on the droid."

He retreated from their campfire, fully aware that he'd upset them. Perhaps he shouldn't have lost his patience. Chirrut was faithful, Bodhi was fascinated by the legends, but he…he couldn't afford to put his stock in such nonsense.

He reached the shoreline. While fishing, he'd noticed some metal bits glinting in the water below. He wasn't sure what he'd find, but he was a strong enough swimmer to at least investigate.

"Cassian?"

He turned to see Jyn trotting down the hilltop, stumbling a little towards the end. She brushed herself off quickly and examined her surroundings.

"Is there something here?" She asked. "Aside from fish?"

"Maybe," Cassian replied. "Underwater. I was going to see if I could pull it up."

"I'll help you," Jyn said decidedly, pulling off her boots.

He crossed his arms. "I don't need help."

"Oh, really?" Jyn challenged. "You didn't sustain a direct hit from a blaster three days ago and are in optimum condition to swim on an unknown planet's ocean? My mistake."

Cassian was about to retort but was abruptly sidetracked by Jyn pulling off her shirt and pants. She did so matter-of-factly, with little to no allure in the process, in the same mechanical way she pulled back her hair. Somehow that made it all the more distracting.

"Do you have a spare set of clothes I'm not aware of?" Jyn inquired and he grumpily pulled off his own boots. Jyn had stripped down to her underthings—a thin industrial sort of chemise and intimates—but he kept his pants on. This was a scavenging mission, they were swimming for parts to build a droid.

He found that if he repeated it enough mentally, he almost believed it.