—Celebrating the Life of Jyn Erso:
Jyn didn't know what to expect when they landed. (Or if; she wasn't going to put it against the people who flew the transport.) She did hope for an apology, maybe? Not like a majestic detonation somewhere in the atmosphere with WE'RE SORRY glowing over her head. Even recognition for what they've done to her would have sufficed.
After everything Saw has taught you, you've gone soft.
She stopped trying to expect halfway through the ride. Then she rifled through Captain Andor's bag. He packed light and impersonal. No holoimage of a doting wife or family, or a ragged version of a childhood security blanket. She counted a total of three knives, a BlasTech A-180 blaster pistol and a heavy fur coat. In a pocket of the duffel were about four or five holochips labeled similarly: K-2SO backups.
She assumed that was the name of the droid.
Jyn listened silently to Chirrut pray, and asked him about kyber crystals. All she got was a vague answer in turn.
"What do you know of kyber crystals?"
Her hand went to her mother's necklace. "My father said they powered the Jedi's lightsabers." One weapon to another.
"They say the strongest stars have hearts of kyber." Her father specializes in kyber. The Death Star, in all its strength, would definitely have a heart of kyber. One weapon to another.
She talked with Bodhi as much as she could before he spaced out between sentences and barely made an effort to listen to her. He seemed like a good man, if he hadn't gotten mixed up with the wrong sort of her people…
Just like her father had.
She tries to imagine some sort of reunion with her father, tries to picture meeting the man in the hologram for the first time. Will she cry? (She might. Her self-control has been going down lately.) What will she do if she sees him there; in Imperial robes and his hair cut cleanly like the hologram?
Hope that somehow he recognizes her? Tell him who she was between sobs of happiness and fear and uncertainty?
But who she was was Kestrel Dawn and Tanith Ponta and Lianna Hallik: a fighter, a criminal and a survivor. And before that, she was Jyn, and only Jyn. Because she did not need her father's name to save her. She had her own family among the Partisans.
Not the Alliance.
Never the Alliance.
They look at her as she walks the ground of Yavin's moon. They whisper among themselves. The words Captain Andor and recruit are in the air. Jyn scowls at the thought.
Bodhi walks out of the hangar first, giving her a prompt nod before disappearing. He seems to look better than earlier. Unlike Jyn.
She's coated by a thin film of sweat minutes upon breathing the air. She really wishes she didn't breath it in. The humid breeze carries the scent of mildew and rotting vegetation, though it seems to try and mask the small hint of sulfur Jyn identifies.
A great stone ziggurat stands as a shadow on the surface of the jungle moon. Yavin 4.
Perhaps the star system is too obscure for her to recognize. In another life, she studied navigation. Was it Kestrel's time? Or Tanith's petty life? Jyn doesn't bother trying to recall.
Jyn looks to her back where Cassian Andor walks behind her. He has since donned a mask. She identifies it as the mask worn by spies she's taken notice of in bars and cantinas around the galaxy. His chin is held high and his shoulders are carefully set back. She later realizes he isn't wearing such a mask. He's always been a mask.
"Keep walking," he says as he marches Jyn down the tarmac and onto the slick stone floor of the pyramid. They walk together, his Imperial droid trailing behind them. They pass pilots in jumpsuits chatting up technicians; starfighters and freighters and transports sitting in orderly rows.
Why is she still here?
It's not as if they'd let her run. She's here already.
Jyn, you should run.
She wonders what to do. Trip Cassian, smash his face on the pavement and use him as a human shield? No, the droid would be against her straight away.
No, she'd have to wait; hope from the darkness of her cave that Bodhi will follow through. That his loyalty to her father outweighs his loyalty to the Alliance.
Hope. Whatever she said to Cassian before. It's her who hopes. It's the Alliance that kills. What a kind universe they could be in if it were the other way around.
Minutes after Bodhi stopped talking to her, Cassian came out of the cockpit to tell her that the Alliance knew about her now. Without another word, he went back in. She bit her cheek until she drew blood.
The ziggurat is old, crumbling. It appears to be the source of the sulfurous aroma. Wires are strung across ancient carving. Flashing consoles are placed against altars as offerings for the gods who had long since abandoned the temple.
Jyn recalls her mother and her love for history. She holds Jyn close and tells her the tales of the great Jedi. She is quick to banish the memory. The kyber crystal sits colder against her neck. At the mention of kyber crystals, her mind shows her Chirrut, who sits in the ship with Baze. Then she thinks Jedha, and the Death Star, and her father and. It. Doesn't. Stop.
"Your heart rate is increasing rapidly," K-2SO whirrs behind her.
She takes a few breaths to try and slow it. Jyn clenches her jaw and snaps back without having to look back at him. "You better hope yours keeps ticking, droid."
"Sweetheart of the Alliance, this one," it comments, "Where do you find them, Cassian?"
Cassian breaks his mask for a while to laugh, "They're all at cantinas, Kay-Tu."
They continue walking into chamber deep below the surface—a bunker, maybe—fortified to withstand an attack if the temple above crumbles. "After you," he smiles smugly at her.
It's a part of his mask.
There is never a better moment for Jyn Erso to hate Cassian Andor other than this. She wants to take him by the neck, push his against the wall and show him a reason to wipe the smile of his lips.
She had the same thought back on the ship, when he was yelling at her about caring and the fight. Instead, she just returns his smile coldly. "Thank you."
The bunker is dimly lit and divided by a conference table. Jyn surveys the faces placed in front of her. One is a man wearing the insignia of a rebel general, a scowl rivaling Captain Andor's and hair like rust.
The other is a woman dressed in white robes. Her face is lined and copper hair styled impeccably—unlike the general's at all. She has both the air of authority and that of a person who just walked in.
"Captain Andor," the general nods, "A moment." They retreat to a corner of the bunker, Kay-Tu trailing behind them.
When they're in the shadows, and it appears Jyn and the woman are alone, Jyn hisses. "What is this?"
"My name is Mon Mothma," the woman says. "I sit on the council of Alliance High Command and—"
Mothma. The Alliance chief of state. This is where it happened. Where the orders were given as people far away died—people far away were killed. Jyn's made it her life's work to make as much trouble for both the Alliance and the Empire, but still she'd prefer not to get killed. There's a chance for a safer plan. Maybe.
"I want to see my father," she interjects.
Mothma doesn't even think on it. "No."
That chance for a safer plan dissipates. The hatch in her minds shatters like baked clay.
"I need to see my father," she rephrases. Her plans with Bodhi will surely piss the Alliance off, but right now she's on a short cut track getting angry at its chief of state.
"Miss Erso," she says kindly, but the tone is unforgiving, "Given the circumstances—"
"You told him I was dead!" Jyn suppresses a yell into a harsh, cold voice, "I deserve to see him." She slams her palm against the table.
Still Mon Mothma remains calm in her ghostly white robes. No vulnerabilities for Jyn to jab at. "I understand that you feel somewhat entitled, but we're sorry. It can't happen."
"I feel entitled?" Jyn scoffs, "It's the least you can do after aiming a blaster at my mother!"
She feels glad that the room is empty, that Cassian, the droid and the rust-haired general have left them to this debate, because Jyn cannot help but yell. Her voice feels like breaking at the end of the sentence.
Mon Mothma remains silent for a while. Then her eyes soften greatly. "I'm sorry you feel that way about us."
Jyn has no words. There it is: the apology that she had wanted when she first landed on this rotting moon. Then the general returns with Cassian, a datapad in his hand, and Jyn is angry again. There is Saw's silver ghost within her cave, striking at a flint to choke her in the smoke of her own darkness.
"Miss Erso," he says.
She flinches at the name. The general smiles at his petty victory over her response. "Please take a seat."
In Kay-Tu's foresight, the droid had already downloaded the data on Lianna Hallik on a datapad before claiming that he needed to backup his own drive and promptly left.
Cassian scrolls through the information, scanning little words as the text goes too fast for him to fully grasp. She has three sets of files, none of which have attached birth certificates.
A single diploma to the Future Minds project. An exile agreement, but Cassian doesn't look over the details.
An account on Betha II with a significant amount of credits, which makes no sense as to why she had to steal his credit chip. Just to spite him, most likely.
The datapad refuses to continue as he reaches a letter. Then he gives it to General Draven.
"Erso?" The general asks him. "Not Galen Erso."
Cassian nods. "His daughter."
Draven raises his eyebrows then continues to read. "Where do you find these people, Andor?" The general smiles at him as he reads the documents.
Kay had asked the same question.
Draven holds it now, reading over Jyn Erso.
"Jyn Erso, aliases Lianna Hallik, Kestrel Dawn and Tanith Ponta," Draven smiles, "Apparently, after knowing just one of your names, you're not that hard to find."
Even Cassian was surprised at how much Kay-Tu got on a single name. Maybe she wasn't even hiding to begin with.
"So which one are you now?" Mom Mothma asks. Lianna.
Jyn smiles. "Does it matter?"
"No," the ex-Senator replies, "Not really."
Cassian never actually read the whole thing, so hearing general Draven, Jyn Erso yet again becomes a story.
"Not much to your early life," he swipes through the datapad.
"Of course not," Cassian hears Jyn mutter under her breath with a smile. He feels his lips tug a little at the comment.
Draven doesn't appear to have heard. "Five years ago, Kestrel Dawn started work as a guard in a mining facility off Kessel. Three weeks later, the facility blew up. I'm guessing that one was you. Dawn was one of the casualties. But we all know she isn't dead."
Jyn shrugs, "Never lived to begin with."
"You were also Tanith Ponta for three years," he continues, "A student in the Future Minds project. Top marks. Taken into Imperial labor camp for piracy, fraud, impersonation of Imperial officers, arson, and interestingly, seduction. Currently exiled on Lianna for assaulting the warden."
"Don't forget," she jokes, "I play a great seven-string hallikset."
Cassian supposes that's where she got the name.
"No criminal records on Hallik," he hears Draven state, "One of four survivors of the fire in an Imperial training camp in Betha II. Refused statement in news coverage. Has been working as a Huttese translator for the past two years."
He's surprised to hear that she can understand—perhaps even speak—Huttese. A curious part of Cassian has always wanted to know what holding a Hutt would feel like.
"Petitioned for temporary leave, according to your records, for a religious pilgrimage in Jedha."
Mon Mothma steps in, "And here we are."
Jyn raises her eyebrow and scans all three of them. Her eyes linger on Cassian for just a little while, before she erupts in laughter. "Are you trying to recruit me? I'm very sure I expressed my sentiments to you, Senator. If you would just drop me off, perhaps in the Meram Sector, I can find my father myself."
"We can't let you go now," Cassian says, "You know where the Base is."
Jyn tilts her head to the side, "Yes, well. As much as I hate the Alliance, I hate the Empire more. I won't be saying anything."
"It isn't the saying anything we're worried about," Draven says as he places the datapad on the table. A monochrome image of Jyn's face is on it, captioned with 'LIANNA HALLIK, a survivor of the fire on the Betha II Imperial training facility.'
She holds a scarf over her face in the photo, but Cassian can see her eyes.
Jyn stands up and leans against the table. "Torture? They'd have to find me first. Then they'd have to figure out who I am."
"Miss Erso," the ex-Senator's voice rises. "Captain, would you please escort her outside?" There're strong notes of exasperation within her voice.
Jyn looks at him pointedly. She's being purposely irritating to punish him for taking her to the base. Cassian knows it. He sighs.
"Reckless, unpredictable," the general reviews out of their earshot, but Cassian is a spy. He's trained to listen against distance. "She's done great work putting down little facets of the Empire, but I really don't see how this is worth it."
Cassian joined the Alliance to build something new. So far, all he's done for it is exactly as Tanith Ponta's criminal record claims. The Alliance destroys. Jyn Erso destroys.
She isn't worth it. That's the truth. Her vendetta against the Alliance is too big for her to start working with them.
Then why did Cassian bring her to Yavin 4? There is only one answer to that.
Chirrut feels the darkness emanating from beyond the walls of the ship, until a bright light shies into his senses.
He smiles and pauses his praying. "Kind of you to join us again, Jyn Erso."
Baze grunts. It's his constant reminder to Chirrut that he's still there. Chirrut find the gesture unnecessary. It's not as if Baze can't just leave.
"She isn't here," his gruff voice calls.
And the shining light comes into perfect view, the crystal at her heart pulsing against the shadows outside. "Who isn't here?"
Chirrut smiles knowingly at Baze.
"Has Bodhi been in here?"
The pilot. An utterly glowing mess of cloudiness and uncertainty. Something happened to the young man, something he did not deserve. "Not really," Chirrut replies.
The light flickers and pulsates. "Thank you."
Baze makes another indignant sounds once the light becomes darker. Either Jyn Erso has stuck to a decision of killing them all, or that she retreated closer to the shadows of the moon. "Why are we here, Chirrut?"
"Because we have nowhere else to go," he answers matter-of-factly. "Tell me Baze, what did you see of Jedha?"
The glow shades red, before fading away. "I mean, why are here with the Rebellion?"
Chirrut feels the anger from Baze. "I do not know your reasons, but I am here with Jyn Erso. Not the Rebellion."
"We are not lackeys of the Rebellion, maybe, but the Empire must pay. They destroyed our home. We need to go to the Empire, not wait in this stench of dying plants."
"Alright," Chirrut comment, "Then what are you following?"
Baze pauses. The first answer Chirrut expects, ashamedly, is that he's following him. "Why do you follow Jyn Erso?"
Chirrut sighs. They both know the answer to Chirrut's question that it need not be answered. Baze's, however, should be. He's dragged Baze into worse events, and not once did the man ever demand an answer from Chirrut. But grief and anger grip Baze's soul today. Now is not the time for a Guardian of the Whills to evade questions.
Baze knows that, of course. So many years together, how can he not?
Chirrut places a hand on Baze's shoulder. "Because she shines."
"What is it you see?"
"Why must you be both literal and offensive?" He smiles playfully at Baze, "The Force is strong in this dark place, and it is because of her."
For a few minutes, there is serenity in the silence and chatter outside their walls. Then a roar erupts outside.
Chirrut reaches for his lightbow as the heavy clunk beside him tells him that Baze has just slung his cannon.
A ship runs down the tarmac as Chirrut and Baze escape cabin. The bright shine of kyber runs with it. The wind billows against his robes and the hum of the engine resounds in the air.
There is the sound of metal scratching metal, and the glow escapes into space. Jyn Erso and Bodhi rook have just escaped atmo.
Baze grunts, and this time Chirrut appreciates it. "She shines all right."
"Erso is unhelpful, Senator," he says to the ghostly woman.
Instead of an immediate reply, she only smiles. "Which one, General?"
"You know who I mean," Draven answers. Weeks upon weeks of messages from Galen Erso, stating the progress of the planet killer's destruction and yet… "We know about the planet killer, the idea of him rebuilding the stability of its reactor module. What we need are the plans."
"Which is why we need Jyn Erso to help us."
Everything on Jyn Erso's three files betrays the point of the Alliance. The fourth they have yet to find.
Draven knots his hands together, "Why would we want her help? She's good in a fight, maybe. She can blow a hole through a moving target's head or snap a neck no problem, but as far as I'm concerned, she doesn't want to fight."
At that Cassian Andor returns to their conversation. He visibly agrees with Draven. He is a fine agent, smart and thorough. His mission was to liberate Bodhi Rook, who was on leave and had not been heard from in days. Rook was important to the plot. The Empire knew about him and he knew about the Alliance. Draven expected the mission to finish successfully and finely.
Not exactly for Andor to return to Yavin 4 with the formerly dead daughter of Galen Erso in tow.
"She'll fight for her father," Mothma answers.
Suddenly, a soldier enters the conference room. She's one of Draven's, dressed in civilian clothes fresh from a rebel cell in Coruscant.
"Officer Moran," he clears his throat, diminishing the argument he had building in him. "What is it?"
Her breath hitches, as if she just ran all the way from the hangar to the bunker. "It's Erso, General. The girl." She takes a deep breath. "She just took of into hyperspace. Ran into their ship as we were landing."
Draven studies his companions. A hint of a smile plays on Mon Mothma's face, but it dies a millisecond upon meeting his eyes.
Andor, on the other hand, listens with a keen curiosity. "Who's flying her?" The captain asks the officer.
"Rook, Captain. They took one of the V-Wing Transports," Moran replies breathlessly, "Elohim and I tried activating the tracker, but I'm afraid it's been tampered with."
Of course it is.
"Doesn't matter." Draven looks to Captain Andor. "We know where she's going." Mon Mothma meets his eyes and gives a brief nod from across the table.
"Captain," Mothma says. "We understand that you've just returned to Base One, but you must go to Eadu." She turns to face the girl hovering at the entrance. "Thank you, Officer Moran."
Moran nods and leaves with Andor in tow.
When the two soldiers are gone, Draven speaks. "She's more trouble than she's worth, Mothma."
"Then you don't understand what she's worth, General," Mothma replies. Somehow, there is no poison in her voice.
"The girl's a thief and a liar," Draven argues.
Mon Mothma adds to his statement, "—who has remade herself three times, fighting the Empire from each front." As an ally, an enemy and a victim. It goes unsaid, but he hears it anyway.
"She's also been fighting the Alliance," he continues, "Practically bit Andor's head off when he used Follante's name." Follante; who led the extraction of Galen Erso and did not come back alive. Draven is sure Mothma knows the name. She authorizes the mission. She knows who died in it.
The Erso's are one and the same: more trouble than they're worth. "You really see something in her?"
"Fire," Mothma answers, as if it explains anything.
Draven can't end the conversation here, where he is on lower ground. He opens it for another chance. "Sure. Anything else you'd like to discuss?"
"Make sure Andor lets her see her father."
He pauses, before looking at her. Mothma's tone makes it so that it isn't up for discussion. "And why is that?"
"I imagine it's time we start trying to make up for our mistakes," she shrugs.
Draven has no retort for that, so her nods brusquely and heads for the comm center. He has enough work keeping the Alliance together. Making amends for its mistakes isn't his job.