A/N: 'ETU' here stands for Extraction Team Undecided. Just keeping these chapters organized. And a very big thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed and added this fic to their favourites so far!
I'm aiming for a fic with an authentic feel, so there'll be as much in the way of cannon backstory that I can scavenge; no spoilers for Rebel Rising, though, even if there will be short extracts in my own words.
Also, try to imagine Cassian saying the things he says in Diego Luna's beautiful Mexican accent. I certainly did when writing this :)
Chapter Six: ETU 1• Provident Approach
Jyn had woken up to Kaytoo opening her door at some ungodly hour of the morning, letting in a stream of blinding white light from the curving corridor and unceremoniously dumping a neat parcel of clothes on her floor.
"The Captain would appreciate if you reported in forty standard minutes," he'd said.
"Kriff off," responded Jyn, turning over so the hard pillow shielded her eyes.
The Imperial uniform set out for her had at first looked only vaguely challenging; but recalling her conversation with Bodhi the previous night a multitude of doubts arose during dressing about the creases and folds and angles of things, right down to where the breeches ended and the boots began. She thought back on similar Imperial uniforms she had noticed over the years and made adjustments where she could with only the face mirror of the refresher to check herself. The outfit wasn't tailor-made, but it was clean enough to not have been scavenged either. She supposed the Alliance occasionally had these forged for undercover purposes, though she didn't have an eye to catch the accuracy of the forgery. Hers was made for someone of small stature and only slightly ill-fitting.
It was still the early hours of morning, if space had any such mornings, when she reported as per requested well over forty minutes ago. The ship was brightly lit in the black recess of moving space through the two panoramic viewports on either sides, but the common area used as a meeting room the previous day was eerily empty and quiet save for the soft whirring of controls from the cockpit. She frowned, contemplating whether it was best to wait or search. At this hour she assumed it was Kay at the controls and not Bodhi, but she didn't feel like being reprimanded for her timing and so took a guess, climbing down the narrow utility ladder to the bottom level of the ship.
It was only once inside that she heard any form of noise- on the far end of the entrance a uniformed Cassian rummaged through his rucksack to pull out a blaster, badges and insignias. He gave no indication of having realized her presence. Uneasy to break the eerie stretch of silence, she made no sound as he picked up a personal identifier transponder, momentarily pausing, looking at it before he slipped it into a pocket at his side.
He stiffened, and she noticed the brace on his back was either gone or completely unnoticeable under the gray uniform. He turned to face her slowly.
"You're late," said Cassian quietly, but his words barely registered because her eyes were instantly drawn to the difference.
His Imperial uniform was crisp and perfectly done, pleated where needed and folded at the right degrees. His badges gleamed- the Imperial insignia on the left of his collar looked like it belonged there, like it always had. On Scarif she'd thought his disguise was precise- but this was simply impossible to digest, because on the far end of the second level stood a completely different man. Clean-shaven, spotless. Hair trimmed into neat lengths typical of law-abiding Imperial die-hards. He looked polished, important. The angles in his face were prominent, even more so than usual, and carried an affluent lustre that had never touched the face she was familiar with. It struck her why this alias had held up for five years without raising scrutiny; if one were to draw a picture of Cassian Andor, the rebel, against Captain Willix, the bloodline Imperial, every difference and no similarity would stand out.
He crossed in a few strides to stop before her and was fixing the many flaws of her own undercover get-up before she could say anything. He wore no discernible expression as he undid and refastened her collar, folding it neatly in half, then adjusted the creases and folds of her jacket with practiced precision. Jyn would have said something, asked a couple of essential questions maybe, if Bodhi's idea of a joke the previous night hadn't treacherously sprung to mind.
Her cheeks coloured ever so slightly as Cassian continued his tailoring, paying no attention except to the corrections that had to be made, oblivious of or perhaps unconcerned with her discomfort.
"Jyn," he said pointedly, as he turned her face to look straight using two fingers on her jaw.
She looked straight ahead but avoided his eyes, her senses keenly aware of his hand on the small of her back, her hip, straightening her frame into a posture that was smart and unnatural.
He withdrew the hand on her hip, but the fingers on her face stayed as he firmly reminded, "Don't forget the stances we coached you on. Uphold them at all times. Got it?"
Feeling her throat strangely constricted in the minute space between them, she only nodded an affirmative.
Cassian's fingers lingered a second longer before he created distance, walking smartly back to where his blaster and a folded copy of the blueprints lay. She found a part of herself ridiculously wanting the disconcerting proximity back, but she banished the thought with almost externally visible force and felt glad it was gone, infinitely glad.
"What's Willix's homeworld?" Cassian asked suddenly, catching her off guard. He spoke with a new accent that served as a hint, but she it wasn't needed thanks to her vigorous - choiceless- reading the previous night. "Coruscant."
"Age?"
"Thirty two."
"Last aide-de-camp was dismissed because?"
"Failure to report for duty on time, on multiple occasions. He was transferred to Aron Draft, Imperial alias of Lieutenant Sordan, one of our own."
Cassian- Willix- looked like he was going to assess her further, but the clank of metal against metal drew her attention to Kaytoo's arrival.
"You're lucky I don't have to program you into holding regulation postures, too," said Cassian in Willix's accent and authoritarian tone.
The droid only sounded mildly acknowledging. "Practicing the specifics of your undercover alias up to two hours before the actual operation is effective enough," he turned his head to look at Jyn instead. "Are you not feeling well?"
Jyn deliberately suppressed the still-present flush that deepened at that, covering with a scowl. "Why didn't you tell me I was supposed to report down here and not to the common area?"
"I assumed you had the sense to come here if the common area was empty. Do you want me to run a temperature check?"
Jyn swatted his hand aside before it could touch her forehead. "No. I'm fine. How well-versed are you in playing Willix's droid, anyway?"
"On previous occasions Cassian and I have had an average of a forty percent chance of success under these guises. With your involvement the chances of success drop to about twenty percent. Certain knowledge withheld from you considered, they're even-"
"Go and get the others," instructed Cassian sharply, giving his droid a look that would have activated the instinct to flee in any living creature.
Kaytoo considered a parting remark but obeyed without, heading back up the ladder in a loud and petulant manner reminiscent of a stubborn child scolded.
"He tends to say whatever that comes to his circuits," Cassian shook his head, turning back to his equipment and copy of the blueprints. He cleared the bench of his rucksack and discarded jackets, revealing it to be a bench of surprisingly generous proportions.
"You sleep here?" She asked, deciding to save the real questions for later.
Cassian sighed warily, the role of Willix gone even though he only sounded like his original self. The lack of a rugged beard and residual fieldwork grime rendered him as far from his actual self than the previous disguise she'd seen him hold up. "I initially had a shared quarter like yours, but Bodhi snores."
It was such a simple and out-of-context thing to say that Jyn had to fight hard to hold back a snigger. "It's that bad?"
Clanking was heard down the ladder again as Kaytoo reappeared, followed by Sefla, Melshi and finally Bodhi, none as elaborately dressed as the two of them but nevertheless mission-ready, the former with assault rifles slung habitually over their shoulders.
"You have no idea," answered Cassian with a mild hint of what might've been weariness, might've been a dry laugh, before straightening to address the rest of his crew.
"Let's go over the plan again," he started, Willix's accent gone again at will. "We will land on the far side of Dimoran, a remote part of the suburbs which are thin in Imperial activity. Jyn, Kay and I will take it from foot there to Dexan village, where we will meet Naren Yi'i and loan an appropriate Imperial transport. Thereafter we will notify the Facility of our inspection visit and set course. It will take us four hours in all. Bodhi?"
Bodhi startled, not having expected to be assessed, but came with his reply, "Uh, myself, Lieutenant Sefla and Sergeant Melshi will head directly for the Facility after we drop you near...Dexan, but we won't go in. We'll stay still somewhere in the radius outside the compound of the Facility until your transport arrives, opening the gate."
"And how will you make it in without being noticed?"
"While the gate is being opened for your transport, you will have a look at the bypass code and beam it to us. We enter it in as soon as you're past the gates so that it simply looks like a double-swipe, turn on ghosting and make for the rock cover."
"Timing is a critical part of the procedure," Sefla clapped him on the back. "Two seconds too late and the code will change, meaning we can't pass it off for a double-swipe and we'll end up setting off alarms instead. So..."
"So no slacking on the job," said Bodhi, a phrase they'd been through several times over the previous day.
Cassian motioned for him to continue.
"If...If there are patrols, and there probably will be, and they head for our cover, Sefla and Melshi will take to the ground to create some form of distraction. We wait for your report on the territorial scans and move accordingly. Also, when you get the prisoners, we've got to be ready to pick them up."
Cassian nodded his approval. "And for that you have to always keep a line open for myself or Jyn, or things could get messy very fast. I want a clean and quick operation, are we clear?"
"Yessir," murmured the crew in unison. It was not a question to whom the role of leader was assigned- level of experience, expertise, the Council's picking and judgement counted, as did the unspoken unanimous vote of all present. Nobody on board doubted Cassian Andor's capability to see things through- they were all well aware of the multiple roles he'd played in the past, an illustrious career by even the Rebellion's standards, more so than that of Sefla's, one rung just below him, and Melshi, who stood at the same level but with less variety under his belt.
Cassian leaned back on one still-impaired leg, an affliction that didn't show not because it was minor but because he didn't believe it served him well. For a single split second a weariness in pain flashed across his features, but it was gone before it could waste a precious moment of time. "Any questions?"
Jyn crossed her arms, carefully so as not to upset the perfected creases of the Imperial uniform, and darted her eyes from Cassian to Bodhi and back again. "Why does it have to look like a double-swipe?"
"Dimoran's entrance codes don't follow the Empire's general algorithms for clearance codes. One of those security changes made recently."
"Must be a variant," shrugged Jyn, barely in question.
"Not a variant we know of," answered Cassian simply. "Yes, Melshi?"
"Give me a code replicator," said Jyn.
Cassian met her eyes from his peripheral vision. She didn't flinch. She had no reason to doubt what she was talking about.
He looked towards his droid and nodded. "Give her a replicator, Kay."
Jyn accepted the thick-backed tablet casually, but her fingers twitched around the bricklike device as if some part of its silicone frame burned the skin it touched.
It had been a long time.
Bodhi glanced her way to get across a quiet thank you, perhaps because he believed she could do it or perhaps because he appreciated the effort to make his task easy for him, but the burn in her fingers was enough to distract her from the present.
The holo-cube shot up an image of an official Imperial media release. Insignia, signature, serial numbers, they were all there, and hit the mark exactly.
"My father taught me to pay attention to details," answered Jyn without thinking.
"Yes, I did," said Saw, his smile a beam of misplaced pride.
Jyn immediately turned on the replicator and studied its several functions, features and shortcomings.
Melshi took his chance to reach across and push a firm knuckle against Cassian's shoulder. "Are you sure about our cover story?"
Cassian's expression didn't waver, but his eyes lowered a fraction as he nodded his certainty. Certainty didn't mean freedom from guilt, but it meant he wasn't going to turn back. "Yes. Everything we have been through."
"Very well," said Melshi, drawing back. "I'll take your word for it, Captain."
The planet loomed below them as a rocky outcrop of ruffled land, faded seas and deprived desert. Roughly a half of Dimoran held all of the sea and habitable land- friendly land- where clusters of civilization dotted the natural landscape, farming was a livelihood but sparse and scattered, which the Imperial occupiers didn't treat with particular effort or importance. The other half looked from the upper levels of atmosphere to be vast, barren, continuous brown rock and beige desert, orange in places, dead in all. That was the Imperial half of the planet, widespread and impending. Although in this case both geographically and politically incorrect, the division looked the perfect metaphor of Imperial occupation scourging up a world, reaching for the remaining bits of life and freedom and culture and draining everything it touched.
They swerved into the living part of Dimoran first, coming in for a tricky landing on careful coordinates. Bodhi manuevered the ship into the clearing of forest, keeping an eye on the maps that put them in close proximity to a human settlement. Cassian sent an encrypted alert to his contact before grabbing his bag and hitting the release on the hatch.
Melshi and Sefla chose to stay at the exit and salute their goodbyes, but Bodhi gave Jyn a quick hug and wished the Force be with them. The two figures in forged Imperial uniforms and the droid had only walked halfway through the clearing when the hatch was called up, and the ship retracted its landing skids to get on a low glide before turning its nose skyward and shooting for the atmosphere.
The forest wasn't wet like Lah'mu, wasn't cold and breezy like Wrea. It appeared interminable miles of dry grass and shrubbery, savanna without harsh sun but the same cracked soil and a lingering heat. They fell onto a foot path a few strides after the clearing ended and simply followed the signs of life. Here the grass was still dry but battered, and although no sentient life save for hidden, scurrying beetles made their presence known, indegenous markings and the occasional signpost testified they were on the right track. They may have cut across as an odd trio- crisp gray Imperials and a droid that looked utterly alien in such a remote place- but there were no eyes watching, yet.
Jyn did feel the occasional glance thrown her way, however, and put up with it until the path broadened.
"Anything you want to know?" she asked pointedly, looking from the harsh long road still ahead to the slaked-gray Imperial officer who fell in stride with her, the limp in his gait stubbornly concealed.
Cassian didn't even bother with an explanation. He had probably aimed for her to ask first anyway. "The original plan is still our best bet, because even if you are capable of forging a clearace code that will get us through, you won't have more than a minute to do it. A minute between seeing the code we're given and the deadline for Team Two's double-swipe. In the event that you don't succeed, we can't afford to compromise the original plan."
"We can't," agreed Jyn, an eye on the simmering horizon ahead. She was beginning to see traces of a settlement. "And I can't guarantee you I will be able to forge a code."
Cassian shifted his pack to his other shoulder, taking care with the neat gray uniform. She wondered how much he knew. He had been tracking her down for months, knew of her affiliation with Saw's partisans. It wouldn't be altogether surprising if he was aware of what her primary role had been for them, as well. "No guarantees will be necessary."
"I see Naren Yi'i's hangar," said Kaytoo. "It is ten meters south of the communication outpost. No Imperial presence."
Jyn squinted in the heat to where the village slept as a scattering of squat buildings and yellow farming patches. She made out the faint shape of a communication tower, but it was about all that stood out.
"Most of the hangar is below ground," explicated the droid in answer. "It is not ideal for moving out and docking shuttles, but the chances for being noticed by the Imperial troops that occasionally make rounds of this area are lowered that way."
"This contact can be trusted?" asked Jyn.
"More than usual," answered Cassian. "He used to work closely with some of our top councilmemebers, then in bringing up the Alliance to where it is now. They trusted him; still do. He's in on most of our undercover aliases as well. We served in the same installation a while back."
Jyn raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"
Cassian shifted the pack to his other shoulder again, fixed his leg. Didn't fall back, though. "He found someone, started a family. It was the only reason he officially left- he's been invaluable even since, running major favours for the Rebellion. That's why most of us envy him without holding his leave against him."
Jyn stopped in her tracks and crossed to stand in his path, moving her own pack to one shoulder. "Give that to me."
Cassian attempted to side-step, but she was fast. "Give me that bag, Cassian. You've been switching it around for the past twenty minutes."
Cassian looked at her neutrally at first, then irritably, and pulled the strap tighter around his shoulder. "Ten minutes more and we'll be in the hangar."
"The medics did advice you to stay clear of strain on your shoulders and backbone," said Kaytoo informatively. "I suggest you give Jyn the bag."
Jyn rolled her eyes. "Don't see why Kay can't carry both our bags, but he's right. Hand it over."
Cassian scowled, but didn't hold his stare for more than two seconds before scoffing, "We're wasting time," and taking a wide stride around her to fall back onto the path, not once looking back over at them.
Jyn was torn between the urge to run up to him and snatch the pack from his shoulder, and keep her distance, silently willing him to suffer. Instead she turned to Kay and deliberately asked, "Just how many of medbay's orders does he ignore on a daily basis?"
The droid didn't even need to tap far into his memory bank. "At least five out of seven a day, although there have been days he has deliberately disobeyed six, and also days he has gone against only four, but never less than that. It may be of interest to you that at present he is disregarding all seven."
Jyn scrunched a palm to her face in a prolonged, unsurprised sigh. "And you're not doing anything about it?"
"It is one of my functions to see to the Captain's health, but every time I remind him of a rule he's breaking I am given an instruction not to bring it up again. If I'm lucky I get threatened to be transferred into the body of an astromech droid, or worse- a sweeper. I have to be concerned for my usefulness too, you know."
Jyn glared headlong into the distance, where Cassian had already progressed a greater distance than he should have, and was ringing up his contact on a private comm.
He really did look like a different person with the beard and assortment of jackets gone. His spinal and leg injuries from Scarif were hidden well, better than she'd ever imagined possible, but no matter what disguise he took she knew for certain that she would never fail to recognize those wounds. The inflictions that made Cassian Andor, markings of what he had done for the Rebellion and for her on Scarif.
Some small part of her wanted to tell him that they were nothing to be ashamed of, that they were proof of the rebel she knew and recognized who had welcomed her home and lead her toughest battle alongside her, but his sense of pride wasn't the only thing that stood in the way for those words.
Dexan village wasn't as desolate as it had looked approaching from a distance, because beyond a point people were outdoors and ploughing the farming patches, senior women were weaving dusty cloths at their doorsteps and children were playing noisy games in the rugged streets. All or most activity came to an abrupt standstill at the sight of the approaching Imperials- it was disconcerting, being viewed as the very people you called your enemy- and the path was made clear for them. Jyn couldn't help but falter the slightest bit under the villagers' scrutinizing gaze, but no one was about to do anything but maintain a silence of forced respect. Cassian kept going without a single sideways glance.
The stretch of silence didn't shatter even after they had reached the entrance of the hangar, an isolated place that kept its distance from the rest of the village. A dozen cameras examined their faces from above and around the slanted squat building before a narrow hatch shot open before their feet. Stairs led into darkness below ground.
"Watch your footing," said Cassian tonelessly, the first words he had spoken since ten minutes ago. He found a handrail and started his descent. Kaytoo climbed in after her, and the hatch shut behind them.
Darkness engulfed everything but for the slight sheen on the metal stairs and the droid's lightened eyes. The distances between steps were varying and unpredictable. More than once Jyn stepped down a little too early only to hear Kay's irate clicks close behind her.
Eventually there was ceiling and dim golden light, illuminating the underground compound that housed an impressive range of Imperial shuttles, some of them exclusive to the Empire, others official-looking and painted with the insignia. The compound was massive, the ceiling high. Even the seven-foot droid at her flank looked like a toy among the dozen large, impending cargo vessels, freighters and dignitary transport shuttles that stood on their landing skids great distances from the polished floor.
Cassian didn't look around with the same awe she did- clearly he'd been here before- but spent a moment searching for their contact. The man eventually presented himself to them, emerging from one of the far walls and walking a smooth path down the aisle between shuttles.
Perhaps Jyn would've done her habitual assessment of the person- prior observations could save your life, she'd learnt that the hard way- and noted his casual stride, apologetic shrug and warm smile that suggested he belonged nowhere near the galactic conflict or the rebellion, if her attention wasn't instantly drawn to the girl of about six in a black dress, red flats and naturally curly red hair bundled up messily on her head who stuck close to Naren's right leg while he headed over.
She and Kaytoo stood and stared, but Cassian's dour mood dropped in an instant and he was suddenly on one knee, smiling and introducing himself to the girl and asking her name before even addressing her father.
Naren ruffled his daughter's already unkempt hair and fondly explained, "I'm taking her to the Urban Development convention with me tonight. She's so excited about seeing the city again that she's trying on all these outfits."
There was something in the way the girl acted, the way her father spoke, that threatened to bring back memories of a long time ago when Jyn had found herself in the same position, the daughter of an Imperial scientist on Coruscant determined she would dress to make her father proud whenever he decided to take her to the lavish parties hosted by other important figures in the community. She had sealed those memories shut a long time ago, when she'd been convinced her father was a...a bastard, a coward who had left her on her own, but her last memory of Galen superceded all of those convictions, and the last thing she had done for him was give him hope...maybe made him proud. Now good memories of a time long past flickered behind the unusual specks in her eyes; simple plaid dresses laid out on the bedroom floor, little trinkets of jewellery that she could very well wear on her own but she insisted her Papa hook the clasps of anyway.
"Really?" Cassian was saying, taking the girl's small hand to press a kiss to it, making her smile shyly but not hide behind Naren. "I think you look fantastic, señora."
"Captain Andor," reminded Naren lightly, a call to attention amidst his easy humour.
Cassian got to his feet with a firm nod, evening out whatever creases that had formed in his gray uniform. "Of course. This alias is bloodline Imperial; only as cover for an extraction operation. A dignitary's private vessel would be ideal."
Naren regarded him thoughtfully. "I must compliment you on your disguise, Captain. I heard you were Draven's golden boy, but this is more than even I anticipated out of a cover. You don't appear at all to be the same man I worked with all those years ago...or, considering that really was a long time, you don't look like the man on the identification card I was pinged this morning."
Cassian stiffened, just slightly, but responded with a shrug that slipped off easily. "You'd be surprised what a shave and a haircut can do. Besides, most Imperials don't know where to look."
Naren snorted. "You mean they aren't willing to believe our infiltration has stretched this far in. But they'll be getting more careful now, after we won the last time. It's finally striking them just what the Alliance is capable of."
The last time being Scarif and the Death Star. If Naren knew anything about either one of their involvement in those battles, he was doing a good job of hiding it, and Cassian was doing an equally adept job of playing along.
As the conversation stalled he followed the ex-rebel down a steep, broadening ramp that lead to a lower level of the underground hangar, too many thoughts and memories triggered in their cages.
Draven's golden boy, yes, since the present age of Yi'i's own treasured daughter. He'd done things to earn that title that he wasn't proud of- and still wasn't entirely sure he deserved it. The ex-rebel hadn't known all that much about his background during the brief period they had been stationed in the same installation- Cassian had been just a boy back then, another seventeen-year-old who'd lost his home to the Empire, but noted because of rising through the ranks, serving intelligence and having been around for longer than most other operatives of seventeen. They had done mission runs together, on occasion, and exchanged brief words during the time in-between- but they knew little of each other and hadn't spoken all that much. You tended not to make friends when you were almost entirely certain one of you would get killed somewhere down the line soon enough.
Not Naren. He didn't operate on that mentality. It lead him to leave the Alliance to work as an outsider, serving the cause while enjoying little privileges others in his place were too afraid to pursue.
Jyn and Kaytoo followed from a distance as the ex-rebel delved into the specifics of the vessel he'd chosen, maximum velocities and trajectory settings and fake credentials. What they eventually arrived at was the foot of a stark white shuttle that made up for in style what it lacked in size. The streamlines were smooth and glassy enough to reflect the golden light that caught in the various nooks and veered off curves, speaking volumes of luxury and Coruscanti affluence. It was more than ideal. It was exactly the kind of ship Willix would make his entrance in, and the kind of ship that would in turn beg scorn from the Imperial higher-ups on Dimoran without undermining the importance of their guest.
The interior of the XX90 was white and spotless just like its paintwork, generous spreads of leather and blue overhead lighting panels giving the illusion of space. If not for the Imperial uniform Jyn felt she would look about as out of place as Tusken raiders on a cold planet. The droid at her shoulder had to keep his head ducked most awkwardly, though, and he chose to make whirring noises of disdain even though it looked like the joints in his neck allowed for the bend. Cassian exchanged a few more words with Naren while she took it upon herself to cross the floor and set her bag down on a padded bench meant for lounging. She turned away from the bench just in time to spot the girl watching her, making the young one bow her head shyly and hide behind her father. A little too late, Jyn attempted a smile.
"This one is actually legal," Naren was saying. "Up to the point I forged the license plates. Can't steal something like this without getting noticed."
"Must've cost you a lot," said Cassian, half a question that implied reimbursements would be difficult if any ended up being required.
"An arm and a leg, son, but I would give my limbs for the rebellion," the older man smiled a wry, sad kind of smile, dismissing this concern. He patted his daughter's head again, once, gently. "Just not my one shot at living. You ever think about that, Cassian?"
Cassian didn't reply, and Naren pointed towards the cockpit. "Single pilot, I'd reckon enough leg-space for your droid. She's got a four hyperspace journeys' mileage on her, so if anyone aks, she's as new as she looks. You won't need the thermal controls where you're going. Dimoran's as scorching as anything on that side."
"How many people is it meant to take?"
"No more than three, but living standards are just enough for four." He looked around, mulling over if there was anything left to say. "You'll find a scan-proof storage space under the main room's bunk. Anything else, I don't think you'll have to know unless you're buying this ship."
Cassian shook the ex-rebel's hand, said a few words of thanks but didn't appear communicative beyond that, spared a moment to wave at the six-year-old and set about the task of identifying himself with the cockpit. Naren saluted them both before heading down the ramp, promising to soon open the doors to the outside, but his daughter lingered by the open hatch, and it took Jyn a while to realize she was the only person left who the girl could talk to.
"Are you from the Alliance?" she asked.
Jyn attempted a smile, but it came nowhere close to Cassian's natural ease around the child. "I suppose so."
The girl nodded in full understanding. "Undercover."
Jyn wasn't altogether surprised. "You could say that."
A moment of silence settled in the blinding white interior of the ship.
"Papa says your work is good for the galaxy. But I'm not supposed to mention it to anyone because he could get into trouble."
Papa. heartache was almost crushing.
"He's right," shrugged Jyn, because she didn't know what else to say, not out loud.
The girl stared a while longer, brown eyes probing, searching for signs of trust. She would have found none, but her innocence won out and she asked anyway. "Do you think you could tell me about your mission when you get back?"
Now this really did force her attention. "What?"
The girl's eyes wandered self-consciously. "It's just...I want to be like you when I'm old enough. Papa doesn't let me talk about it, but-"
"You want to join the rebellion?" Now Jyn really was looking at her, somewhere between incredulous and disbelieving. A chill had spread deep into her veins, and she was almost positive it had nothing to do with the recently activated air conditioning system.
"The Empire does bad things, that's why there's a rebellion," the girl defended, crossing her arms tightly at her chest. "I want to do good for the galaxy like Papa and you people he works with. Just because it's dangerous-"
Jyn didn't understand why, but it only felt right in that moment to squat down to the girl's level and stare her frankly in the eyes. Without searching she came across echoes of her own past in them, a far-away past, locked away, almost forgotten. An apartment in a Coruscanti high-rise, wide windows overlooking stupendous arrays of city light and flickering traffic. Two parents who were patient with her tantrums and a working father who tried to make time for her, although regardless of his success in that department he had always made his love known. She'd known. Up till about eight years of age, she had truly and effectively felt it, even if he hadn't always been around.
The Empire was the first to take away from her. Bad things.
The Rebellion had proven no different.
Good for the galaxy.
"It's not because it's dangerous that your father keeps you away from it," she heard the words leave her mouth, didn't understand why or how they were being spoken. All she felt was a desperate urge to say them as the girl's eyes searched hers, perhaps seeing the harrowed images burnt into them, perhaps seeing only the unusual flecks that had earned her the name Stardust. "It's because...the Rebellion...it demands. The cause is real, but it asks for a lot. It takes and it takes, and someday it will have taken so much that you will have nothing left to give but the life you already spent in service. You'll have nothing for yourself, do nothing for yourself. Just spend your whole life fighting and letting the cause take from you, for the good of the galaxy, maybe, but at a cost that you can never match up."
Kaytoo's footsteps receded into the cockpit, Cassian's voice called something indistinct. Naren issued a set of instructions over the comms, the speaker system blotching over his human tone of voice.
"The rebels fight for people like you," Jyn pressed her lips tight together, furrowed her brow, looked almost pleading. "People who have a chance left. We want to end this war so that anyone left in the galaxy without too much taken away from them- with a reason to keep living- can go through their lives without having to be afraid of the Empire or anything. We're fighting for people like you who can actually make the galaxy a better place once this war's done with. There's no point in the rebellion if there aren't those people left in the galaxy in the end, you know."
The girl regarded her silently, thoughtfully, but her expression was unreadable beyond that. Jyn got to her feet, trying not to shake. She slumped back down on the cushioned bench for good measure. Her eyes found the blank white wall behind the girl and took it in.
The six year old in her unsuspecting black dress and red flats was difficult to imagine someday serving with a band of armed rebels, but...it was so terrifyingly easy to believe the image was possible. Even she had been that age once. Even Cassian had. I've been in this fight since I was six years old. What was to prevent the same fate befalling this other child, whose life was already so intricately tied to the cause because of her father's work?
"Magna, unless you want to go off in that ship with them..." came Naren's warning over the intercom.
"Coming, Papa!" exclaimed the girl, hurriedly hauling herself out of the narrow aisle and running for the still-open hatch. She looked like she was about to just slip down the gangplank with a hand on the railing, but she stopped before the exit and turned to Jyn.
"May the Force be with you," she said, excitement still threatening to creep into her voice. Then she ducked, took hold of the railing and allowed herself to slide down casually. She was gone just as the thrusters billowed puffs of smoke and the gangplank started to retract noiselessly, a brilliant metallic sheen in the white fog and warning lights.
Jyn gathered her knees to her chest, uncaring of what the action did to her uniform. She felt defeated.
And it was not just the girl. How much more did she have left in her that the Rebellion would take without asking?