Star Wars: A Young Angry Rebel
AUTHOR'S NOTE: In Finding The Flaw (The Rebel Viewpoint), there's a mention of a young ex-Imperial driven by pain and anger following a needless interrogation. For no reason I can readily name, my fickle muse insists on telling her story.
Yavin 4, the main Rebel Base
1 BBY
Mon Mothma, sitting in a small conference room, regarded the young visitor sent to her by Captain Cassian Andor. "She's as passionate as me," he'd told her, "if that's possible. Like me, she's lost everything. Unlike me, she was tortured. She's fragile. Be careful with her."
She fully intended to follow his advice.
"Please tell me about yourself," she requested gently.
The ragged figure facing her glared defiantly. "Why should I? Who are you?"
She was petite, though there was a wiry strength about her. Grey, fierce eyes. Cropped dirty blonde hair. A short nose, with pale skin.
Actually, if not for the perpetual scowl she'd have been quite pretty.
"I am Mon Mothma," Mon replied. "Officially I'm an Imperial Senator from Chandrila, but -"
She broke off as the woman - girl, really - screamed in a combination of fear and fury, and launched herself at the older woman with utter mayhem on her beleaguered mind. But all she was able to do was to attempt a strike; Mon had been warned about this and used Chandrilan to'ke, a martial art as pacific as it was effective, taught to her by her father when she was 15 (the same age at which she discovered, among other things, romance). In seconds the girl was helpless.
"Let me GO, Imperial nerf-herder!" she shrieked.
"You didn't let me finish," Mon told her firmly. "That's my official position. I try, whenever I can, to find peaceful resolutions to problems. But in truth I am the leader of the Rebel Alliance. I hate the Empire and everything it stands for. I'm on your side," she finished gently. She bore the girl no grudge. "Now when I let you go -"
"- you'll kill me?" the girl spat.
But Mon shook her head. "You're safe here, young lady. No-one is going to hurt you, I promise."
"Been promised before!" she retorted, still struggling. "Been lied to!"
"Yes, the Empire does that," Mon agreed. "But we of the Rebellion will not. All I ask is that you tell me about yourself. Then I'll tell you what's expected. After that, if you're not convinced, you're free to go."
"Go where? If the Imps believe I've spent any time with the Rebels, the kriffing ISB will interrogate me - AGAIN! NEVER!"
Tiredly Mon sighed. This was going to be a long night.
"Stay, then, if you wish," Mon said, "but do whatever you want to do. It's your choice." She smiled. "I don't even know your name."
"Gonna beat it out of me?" she snarled.
"No, never. Please," Mon entreated.
As she'd hoped, her politeness and courtesy had unsettled the girl, who had clearly expected neither. She hesitated, and all the fight left her; Mon felt her relax and released her. Inwardly she was prepared should the girl strike again, but now she was cooling off. "First time I've been given a choice since I signed up," she admitted. "You don't even have a blaster."
I do, Mon thought wryly, thinking of the holdout at the small of her back, but you don't need to know that.
"No, I don't," she lied, though it was for the greater good. "Please tell me your name."
"Ysanna," the girl admitted, "Ysanna D'Vani. I'm from Aldhani."
Mon's eyebrow rose. "You're a very long way from home."
Ysanna snorted. "What home? It was ruined by the fight between the Rebellion and the Empire."
"No," Mon said sadly, "that was Imperial propaganda. The Rebels were never there. It was a convenient excuse to shut down the Imperial facility."
"Oh. One more Imperial lie," Ysanna supposed bitterly. She sighed. "Okay, why not? I signed up with the Imperial Navy when I was 15."
"At least a year too young," Mon observed.
The girl shrugged. "I was precocious. Got outstanding results on the entrance exams, so the recruiter overlooked my age. And I believed. I really believed the Empire represented order and stability, and Force knows, the galaxy could use some of that. I wanted to be a part of it."
An idealist, Mon mused with pity, just as I was, until Bail Organa told and showed me the truth.
"You're not the first, Ysanna, and I doubt you'll be the last," Mon nodded. "One of our pilots was Imperial, before he saw the Empire for what it truly was and defected. Now he's one of our best - and we trust him completely. Tala, a former Imperial officer, was part of our Path network nine years ago. Her cover as an Imperial officer was ideal for her line of work, getting refugees away from the Empire, until she was exposed."
"What happened to her?"
"She died most bravely, covering a Rebel retreat - which included Princess Leia Organa, at age ten." She smiled slightly. "Leia adopted her blaster holster. Empty, of course," she hastily added, "we're not in the habit of arming children."
"Mmm. As for me...for about three years I just had a routine job - filing reports, mainly, I was a minor functionary. But then the ISB exposed a Rebel sympathiser in my section." She scowled. "They're so paranoid that they arrested everyone in the section, including me. I was thrown into interrogation. But I knew nothing," she cried, and now Mon could see tears in her grey eyes. "I was no kriffing Rebel! I was against the Rebellion! Doing my bit for the Empire! But...they interrogated me anyway! A 'precaution', the bastards called it!"
"'Interrogation' is one word for what they do during questioning," Mon said quietly. "But 'torture' is far more accurate. Again, Ysanna, you are not the first. But...I am so sorry." She paused. "So what happened? Not the details, I'm sure you don't want to remember -"
"One of them raped me! You think I could forget THAT?!"
Force preserve us, Mon thought with horrified compassion, no wonder she's so angry. Oh, the poor child.
"Even while he was using me," she sobbed, "he was interrogating me! Who had I met with? What was their connection with the Rebellion? What were their plans? I knew nothing, but he used me anyway!"
Overcome with compassion, Mon gently took the girl in her arms and did her best to soothe her. She didn't dare show her sheer rage. This poor girl's biggest concern should be her scores in her last smashball match, or whether some boy likes her as much as she does him, not the aftermath of a RAPE!
"Then," the girl continued, clearly forcing it out, "they used a truth drug on me - you know, Verifixilon, the one that burns in your veins? You'll tell them anything if only it'll stop the pain! But I - I couldn't tell them anything, I didn't know anything! I didn't know..."
When her sobs eventually died down, Mon stroked her hair and gently asked, "Okay?"
"O - okay, I guess," she murmured. "T - thank you."
"If we win, the Empire will answer for everything it's done," Mon promised, "both on a galactic and on a personal level. I wish I could say there's no precedent. Talk to Captain Andor," she suggested kindly. "He lost everything when an Imperial crash devastated his world of Kenari. He was six years of age, and spoke not a word of Basic. He was picked up, adopted and taken to Ferrix. But he never forgot what the Empire had, however inadvertently, done to his people and his world. He swore revenge. He's a superb intelligence officer, but I think that's all he lives for.
"He lost everything. But unlike some, he decided, in his own words, 'to do something about it'. He's been doing that ever since. He's provided some very valuable material in the past - a lot of it Imperial." The girl did not react. "I for one welcome you to the Rebel Alliance."
Ysanna met her eyes. "All I want now," she grated, "is for you to give me a blaster and I will kill as many Imperial scum as I can before they kill me!"
"That would be a waste," Mon denied firmly. "I grant that anger and a desire for revenge can be great motivators. But you're letting that anger use you," she said gently. "You should use it instead. Feel it, yes - Force knows you're entitled. But ultimately this is not a personal fight."
"It is for me!"
"No," Mon shook her head. "We all must put aside our personal issues; there is a larger picture. The Empire is spreading across the galaxy. We must stop them. You can help us, Ysanna - but not by throwing your life away."
"I'm not too young to shoot!" Ysanna spat.
"I never said you were," Mon allowed. "And you will be taught how to fire a blaster. And many other things."
Now she looked curious. "Like what?"
"Survival skills, for a start," Mon told her briskly. "Our ships are generally old and ramshackle - a functional necessity, given that we're short on resources. Still, it's surprising how often our ships break down and our troops end up stranded on worlds such as Tatooine, where just surviving can be a challenge...unless you know how to cope. Or Ajan Kloss - rich jungles, but many of its plants and some of its animals are poisonous, so survival depends on knowing which are edible and which aren't.
"You mentioned you were precocious. That implies skills our intelligence division may be able to make use of - we need bright young people to provide our strategies and be innovative, keep the Empire guessing. They're just as vital as our troops and pilots.
"Then again, you might be a pilot without knowing it. Garven Dreis, Red Leader of an X-Wing squadron, will train you."
"On a simulator?" Ysanna asked.
Mon chuckled ruefully. "I wish. No, we can't afford them - we train on the actual starfighters."
"'We'?"
"I tried," Mon confessed, and looked sheepish, "but I have no feel for flying - any mission with me along for the ride would be a disaster. My only saving grace is that at least I didn't crash the thing."
Ysanna actually smiled at that. Progress, Mon thought, pleased.
"But...in theory at least...I can leave?"
"If you're not convinced," Mon nodded. "Some of our people are going on shore leave, they'll give you a ride."
Now Ysanna looked keen. "You mentioned blaster training?"
Mon smiled. "You remind me of the Princess. That's just what she would've asked."
Rebel practice range
Later that day
Calling it a 'practice range' is stretching things a little, Cassian Andor mused wryly. In truth the 'range' was merely an open space with targets, mostly dead electronic components, at varying distances from a line in the soil. "All right," Cassian told Ysanna, "first rule: Never point your blaster at anyone who isn't a target. Second rule: If you do, shoot to kill. That way, at least you'll never have to live with the guilt of shooting someone by accident."
"Have you?" she dared.
But Cassian shrugged. "I don't make that kind of mistake. Before he broke away from the Alliance, Saw Gerrera taught me how to shoot, though I already knew how, I'd learned on Ferrix." He smiled briefly. "He taught me a few things that aren't in any manual."
"Point and shoot," Ysanna nodded, aiming at a target.
"Not that simple," Cassian pointed out.
Ysanna fired, scoring a direct hit. The component flared up and melted. Clearly she was already a good shot.
"It is to me," she said simply.
"So you're just gonna go out there only knowing how to shoot?" Cassian inquired. "Quickest way to get yourself killed. I'm gonna teach you why we shoot."
"To kill Imperials," Ysanna growled.
"Again, not that simple," Cassian retorted.
Ysanna took aim at the furthest target and fired.
Direct hit.
"Again, it is to me."
"This is not personal!"
"It is to me!"
Her heartfelt angry declaration pulled him up short. He'd been right; there was passion there.
And more than a little anger.
He knew all about that.
"I know you're angry," he addressed her quietly, "but anger can only take you so far. There must be reason, too. Look, put the weapon on safety - that catch there," he indicated, "and take a deep breath."
She did as instructed and inhaled.
Cassian shook his head. "Not like that. You're still angry. Follow me." He inhaled slowly, carefully, deeply. "Like that."
Ysanna saw his point and complied.
"Hold it a few seconds," he instructed.
She did so.
"Now slowly let it out."
Both exhaled slowly.
"Again," he requested.
The fire faded from her eyes as she inhaled, held and slowly exhaled.
"Better?"
She nodded. "Better. But I still want to kill Imperials." She gave him an old-fashioned look. "But I'll do it calmly."
As she holstered the blaster and started to walk away, he asked, raising his voice, "What did they do to you?"
Ysanna turned back and snarled, "An interrogator raped me."
"You think the next Imperial you meet will know that?" Cassian demanded rhetorically. "You think they'll care? You are nothing to them! Just a Rebel! They don't care about your feelings, your violation -"
She screamed and attacked him - only to receive a punch in the stomach which propelled her backwards, coughing. Cassian Andor was not above using unusual methods, even striking recruits, in the same way that the sea was not above the sky.
"I am not your enemy!" Cassian yelled. "Stop fighting me as if I were!"
Ysanna screamed again and rushed towards him - only to stop dead. The blow she was aiming at his jaw never landed.
Fighting for breath, she drew oxygen through her nose, her fists clenched.
Cassian just stood there.
The realisation penetrated her tortured mind:
He wasn't her enemy.
Except for that punch in self-defence, he'd never hurt her.
Certainly he'd never raped her.
Slowly she brought her furious temper under control.
"Ready for a real lesson now?" he asked gently.
She nodded, still breathing hard. "I'm -"
"Don't apologise," he brusquely interrupted her. "No need. I understand, at least as far as someone who's never been raped can. I've suffered other things," he imparted to her, recalling the mindless tedium of Narkina 5 and his determination to escape or die ("One Way Out!"). "I can and will teach you. If you let me."
Calm now, she nodded again and took out her blaster.
"All you know," he said softly, "is how to fight. It's trauma from what happened to you. But to survive, you'll need more than that. And not everyone you meet will be an enemy. Even when they are, it's more important that you hit the right people than that you hit the people. That's what I mean when I say 'why'. Example: there are two Imperial officers in your sights. But your blaster is down to a single charge, so you can only kill one. The first is an incompetent, he got his position by favouring the right official at the right time. The second can plan a raid. Which do you kill?"
"Is there a right answer?"
He nodded. "Unlike politicians, I don't deal in ambiguities. Nor should you."
"The…"
Then she realised his point. One officer was very useful to the Empire, the other wasn't.
"Yes. The second one. Leave the useless one in place. The fewer competent officers the Empire has, the better."
He smiled slowly. "You see now why 'why' is so important?" He sobered. "Now here's a harder one. Two officers. Both competent. Again, you only have one shot. But one has information we'd rather he didn't, about our base. The other is just making a routine report. Obviously you kill the first one, yes?"
Ysanna nodded.
"But...the first one also has information we need - but he's the one who hurt you. We need him alive. Now who do you kill?"
"I'd like to kill the first one," she growled, but then nodded slowly. "But...we need him. So I kill the other one and take the first for interrogation. We can always kill him afterwards," she shrugged.
"And what if we still need him?"
She sighed. "You're saying personal payback can wait."
"No," he shook his head, "I'm saying personal payback has to wait. It has to, Ysanna."
Using her first name for the first time decided it for her. Clearly Captain Andor knew what he was talking about.
"Taking them all down - all of them - will be our revenge, Ysanna, yours and mine," he told her earnestly.
"Do you believe we can?" she doubted.
"Yes," he answered simply. "Do you?"
"I - the Empire is huge," she pointed out reasonably.
"A Cannok is small," he countered, "but even a few of them, small as they are, can take down an Imperial AT-AT. They did once on Dxun. And they're dumb creatures who had no idea what they were doing. We, on the other hand..."
"Small but irritating," she mused, seeing his point. "If we annoy them enough...yes. Yes," she enthused now, "we can win! WE WILL!"
"That's the spirit!" Cassian approved.
Later he met with Mon Mothma, who asked, "Well?"
"Motivated. Driven. Very very angry, though not without cause. Raped. Poor kid." He snorted. "And she was just a kid - even if she had been a Rebel, what could she possibly have known? Interrogating an intel officer like me, or an officially prominent figure like you, makes perfect sense. But a kid of 18?" He spat. "Their paranoia is sickening!"
"Be that as it may, she is a former Imperial."
"So was Tala. So was Wedge. Tala died defending the Princess. Wedge never hesitates against TIE Fighters."
"Is she ready?"
"To rebel?" Cassian snorted. "If we didn't take her in hand, she'd arm herself and go blasting at the first Imperial outpost she found. That's not what we need."
"Mmm," Mon mused. "What do we need?"
Cassian debated whether to tell her, then decided she needed to know. His voice dropped. "There are rumours around the Empire, I've even heard them on Tatooine. The Emperor is up to something - some big project, maybe a weapon."
(He wasn't to know, of course, that his prison work on Narkina 5 had been nowhere near as pointless as he'd thought, and that he had in fact contributed in a small way to its construction...)
"That would require a lot of Imperial funding," she noted, then paused. At the birth of the Empire, there had been concerns about where the money was going - the Senate couldn't account for some of it. Some, certainly - a lot - had been funnelled into the building of those Imperial-class Star Destroyers, and apparently there was an even bigger one nearly finished at the Kuat Drive Yards, a Super Star Destroyer. Vader was slated to command that, transferring from the Devastator.
But even more had vanished.
She, Bail Organa and others wanted to know where, and why.
Plus there were disturbing rumours that Galen Erso, a known Imperial scientist, was working on it. One officer told her grimly, "I hope it isn't true. I was undercover on Imperial Centre - Coruscant, if you insist - and they all said that if Galen Erso builds something, whether it's a weapon or a caf maker, it works."
Maybe Ysanna would be the answer, she thought, and assigned her to Intelligence, with Captain Andor as her mentor. Ysanna was doubtful at first, until Cassian pointed out that there was more than one path to revenge. She settled in, and discovered a flair for the work.
The fact that another officer working alongside her was young and cute - and interested - didn't exactly hurt, either.
To vary her lifestyle she was also assigned as a part-time counsellor to all those who'd been tortured by the Empire, and she was inwardly enthusiastic.
Princess Leia owed her the ability to sleep after her 'interrogation' aboard the Death Star. Ysanna had taught her how to redirect her nightmares, and now they only occasionally haunted her.
And indeed, a year after her defection, the information Ysanna rooted out - rumours, nothing more so far - was a tale of a vast weapon the Emperor was building, and a defecting Imperial cargo pilot by the name of Bodhi Rook who claimed to know about it...and the fact that apparently he'd been sent to the partisan Saw Gerrera on Jedha. What little she'd learned took Cassian to the Ring of Kafrene…
THE END
