#it’s a little big but it’s for Jyn Erso’s blaster

[amethystsoda]

Repainting the nerf for a cosplay, but I’m feeling like low budget Vash 🔫❤️‍🩹

[felagund-fiollaigean]

Peace like a river (always going, never getting)

 A Jedi: Fallen Order fanfic.

5k words of child soldier angst, fluff, hugs, an 8-year-old Jyn Erso discovering her penchant for inflicting blunt force trauma, a jam session around a campfire with Space Booze, and Merrin and Cal finding a moment of respite to feel young and carefree, taking comfort in each other after a traumatizing lifetime of raw survival.

Read it here or under the cut!

Saw and his rebel band could be uptight and overzealous sometimes, but they sure knew how to throw a party.

They were in the middle of one of the most isolated forests of Corvus, where they had earlier cleaned out an Imperial munitions plant. There had already been so much devastation wrought to the moon’s forests, but it was a big win nevertheless, and Saw had insisted in a rare magnanimous display that the crew of the Mantis join him and his partisans for some revelries. A massive bonfire had been lit with the flammable remnants of the factory they had scrapped. Saw’s motley crew was in high spirits tonight, exchanging drinks and jokes and puffs from a t’bac bowl.

Cere had brought her hallikset down with her, and was joined by a Weequay on a Sriluurian fiddle. The two had gathered a small audience of rebels enthusiastically shouting requests for this song or another, singing along raucously if obliged. Greez had gotten roped into a game of dice with a trio of drop troopers, and Cal was keeping a careful eye on the game to make sure the pile of credits in the center wasn’t getting too big. BD-1 had strayed from his perch on Cal’s shoulder to explore, making his rounds around the fire to meet everyone and scan everything in sight. He catches a glimpse of Merrin across the fire, nodding along to what one of the rebels was telling her about and tapping her foot along with the music.

Cal's managed to get himself pleasantly tipsy. The alcohol he's consumed so far has him feeling warm and loose and lighter than he's felt in a long time. There's no shortage of friendly conversation to be found either, and his status as the resident Jedi is making him fairly popular among Saw’s band. Cal doesn’t mind the attention, personally. So far no one has asked invasive questions like “So what was the clones' betrayal like for you, Cal?” or “You were only a padawan during the purge, right Cal?” or “How does it feel to be the last survivor of your order, Cal?”

The mood is celebratory and relaxed, and Cal is happy to forget about all the atrocities in the galaxy for a while with the rest of them.

He's distracted momentarily when he discovers that BD-1 had made a new friend. A human girl around eight years old, cheeks still round from baby fat and an oversized flak helmet on her head, fawning over the small droid. Cal studies her closer. He didn’t see her during the fighting (and thank the Force for that, at least this child didn’t have to grow up a soldier like he and his friends did), but she's the only child he's seen so far among Saw’s party. Struck by curiosity, he makes his way around the circle of flames and sits down on the damp grass next to her.

“Hey.”

She doesn't look up from where she's fiddling with the antenna on top of BD-1’s head. “Hi.”

“What’s your name?”

This time, she does look at him.

“You’re one of the ones from the Mantis, right?”

Her evasion of the question he asked doesn’t escape him, but he doesn’t press the issue. He wasn’t exactly an open book in his youth either.

“Yup. I’m Cal, and this here is BD-1.”

She frowns at him. “I know. I can speak binary,” she says, as if offended by the insinuation that she couldn’t.

Cal doesn’t let it faze him. “That’s good, not many people can.”

“I’m Jyn.”

Cal smiles to himself. He holds out his hand to her. “It’s nice to meet you, Jyn.”

She accepts the handshake, squeezing his hand in a fierce grip with her little fingers.

“Ouch, you got a strong grip there,” he says, exaggeratedly shaking the pain out of his right hand.

Jyn nods. “Saw says that a firm handshake establishes dominance quickly.”

“Well, it's working,” he says with a smile. “Is Saw your dad?”

Jyn frowns bitterly, and Cal instantly regrets asking. “Not really, she says, shaking her head. “He’s just raising me.”

Now there was a loaded response. Cal wonders what happened to her parents. Were they dead? Or was there another reason why she was in the middle of the woods with a band of militants and Saw Gerrera. Was it possible that she-

Cal shivers, and reaches out into the Force, only to withdraw with dismay a moment later. The Force flowed around her like it did every other being, but she lacked that spark of connection, that synchronization to the energy of life that other Force-sensitives had. He tries not to let his disappointment show on his face and steers the conversation away from either of their pasts, waving his hand to indicate the group gathered in the forest clearing. “Are all of these people your friends?”

She shrugs. “Sort of. I know most of them, but they don’t hang around much because they’re usually off on missions and stuff for Saw.”

“Does it ever get lonely?”

“No, I don’t mind being by myself. It does get boring though. Hey, can I have some of that?”

“What, this?” He holds up his cup, still half-full of Sunberry wine.

“Yeah.”

He narrows his eyes at her. “Um, I’m not sure that’s a great idea, it wouldn’t be very responsible of me. Besides, you’ll have plenty of time to drink when you’re older.” Internally, he cringes at his own words. Since when did he begin to sound like his master?

“That’s what all the others say. I thought you would be cool,” she says with a huff of disappointment.

Cal is momentarily tempted to give in, if only to salvage his status of “cool” in the eyes of this girl. But he really doesn’t want to get in trouble with their newfound allies by getting their surrogate daughter drunk on their very first meeting.

“Hey, I’m definitely cool. How old are you anyway?”

“I’m 8, and I think if I’m old enough to start training for field missions, I’m old enough to have something to drink that’s interesting. But so far, I'm the only one who thinks that.”

Training for field missions. Training for- Saw was training her for the field already?

Eight. She’s eight years old. He tries to picture this girl - with her tiny button nose and flyaway hairs escaping from braided pigtails - wearing her flak helmet and clutching a blaster, taking shelter in a foxhole as Imperial fire rains down. They at least had let him wait until he was 12 before he shipped out with Master Tapal and the clones in the 13th, this girl was practically still a baby.

Instinctively, he looks to Merrin, the only other person he knows who would understand. But Merrin isn’t where he saw her last. His eyes scan the clearing, and catch sight of her at the edge of the forest, at the start of the path that leads to the cliff edge nearby that overlooks the valley.

He wonders why she’s leaving, and if she wanted him to follow.

“Hey, did you hear what I said?”

Jyn is looking at him expectantly. Kriff.

“Uh, sorry, Jyn. Zoned out for a minute there. What was that?”

“I asked you if you know how to shoot a blaster, or if you only use your lightsaber and stuff.”

“Oh. Uh, I prefer the lightsaber I guess."

"Can I hold it?”

Cal blinks. Hold his lightsaber? He glances around the fire. He doesn’t have a problem with it, personally, but for the second time that evening, he is taken aback by his newfound position as an adult responsible for the wellbeing of a child. He unclips it from his belt.

“Yes. But,” he says, and doesn’t continue speaking until she’s torn her excited gaze away from his saber hilt to meet his eyes. “Let’s not ignite it here, okay? So be careful with the button. Got it?”

She nods, and he passes it to her.

She takes it reverently, holding it carefully in both hands and turning it over, examining it from all angles. Her little fingers barely wrap all the way around the circumference of the hilt. Cal is pleased to see she gingerly arranges her fingers so as not to accidentally trigger the ignition. BD-1 stands on her thigh, examining it with her even though he’s seen it hundreds of times already.

“It’s heavier than I thought,” she remarks. “Is it fun?”

“Is what fun?”

She shrugs. “You know. Using it, and fighting with it.”

Cal thinks for a moment. He doesn’t think of fighting as something fun. Usually, when he has to use it’s saber, it’s because somebody is trying to kill him and he will have to kill them in return. But his mind is drawn back to building his first saber as a youngling, and the thrill of feeling each component of the hilt assembling into something uniquely his. Of practicing kata or sparring in the temple, saber moving with power and fluidity as an extension of his own self. Of igniting his second saber for the first time on Illum, feeling the heat of the blade on his face and the crystal within calling out to him as if reuniting with an old friend.

And he finds himself saying, “Yeah. It’s pretty fun.”

She seems to consider something for a moment, and hands it back. “I know that I’m not a Jedi or anything, but do you think I would be good at fighting with one if I was?”

He busies himself with affixing his lightsaber back to his belt and taking a swallow from his rapidly-cooling wine as he considers how best to answer her bid for validation.

“How about the next time we come to work for Saw, you and I find out together?”

She looks at him accusingly. “But I don’t have a lightsaber, how would I do that?”

He shoots a look at BD-1, who seems to nod encouragingly.

“Before any Jedi builds their own lightsaber, we train with sticks and staves. We practice with ordinary weapons before we ever take up a lightsaber. I could teach you, if you wanted. You don’t need to be a Jedi to hit somebody with a stick."

She laughs at this, evidently not expecting so elegant a weapon to be compared to a common stick. “What if I wandered around with a stick tied to one side of my belt, and bonked people on the head like it was a tube of flimsi towels?” she says, shaking her fist as she raps Cal’s own skull with an imaginary cardboard tube.

Cal smiles. “Stormtrooper helmets aren’t very good quality, but they’re a bit tougher than your average flimsi-towel tube. We’ll have to find you something sturdier to practice with.”

Jyn stares at him, looking a bit shocked. “Were you serious about teaching me?”

BD-1 trills with affirmation, hopping from one little foot to the other in excitement.

“Of course. Not tonight, but we’ll see each other again. Someday, I’ll show you how to fight with one of these.

Her eyes are shining with excitement, and she holds out a tiny pinky. “Promise?”

He locks his little finger with hers, and says “I promise. You should be able to defend yourself as much as possible, when you’re out there.”

What he means is, I’m not going to let you die like the others, not if I can help it.

But he doesn’t say that, because Jyn is still young and dreams of glory, and the cruelty of the galaxy will find her soon enough without any of his help. She’s like him and Merrin now. A survivor.

Speaking of Merrin…

She’s still not back, and Cal eyes the entrance to the first path with apprehension. She’s more than capable of taking care of herself, he knows that. And if she had run into trouble, she would be able to make enough of a fuss to be noticeable from here.

Still.

He takes a final swig from his cup and leaves it behind him on the grass as he stands, and tries not to groan at the stiffness in his knees.

“I’m gonna go for a walk, make sure Merrin’s okay,” He says. “You two…” he points from Jyn to BD-1 in turn “Stay out of trouble, alright?”

“Okay,” Jyn says casually, resuming her fiddling with BD-1’s antennae as BD-1 chirps contentedly. “Don’t get lost.”

Cal isn’t worried about getting lost. He’d traveled the footpath from the clearing to the cliff ledge multiple times in the daylight. But this time, as the shadows of the trees close around him, cutting him off from the warmth of the fire and his gathered friends, his mind began to wander back to his conversation with Jyn.

Was Saw really going to send this child out to fight? At least with him, they hadn’t had a choice, they hadn’t just...

No, they had. The Jedi order made a choice to send him out onto the front lines as a soldier at the age of 12. They did the same to Caleb and Zett and Skywalker’s padawan, Ahsoka, who at the age of 14 had seemed so mature to Cal when he first met her. They had all grown up under blasterfire and canonfire and the shrill scream of bombers, and now Jyn was going to have to do the same.

He makes the decision then to ask the rest of the crew to take on as many jobs for Saw as they can. He knows he isn’t invincible. He can’t save the entire galaxy by himself, but if he can be here for Jyn, maybe….

Maybe he could be for her what Prauf was for him. A guide, an anchor, someone who would have her back when the going gets tough, as it inevitably does.

It takes 7 standard minutes and two stumbles over protruding roots before the trees thin out and Cal finds himself at the clearing on top of the cliff. It’s a stunning view. Corvus’ twin moons cast a wan glow over the valley, and the dark sea of trees below them stretches out all the way to the horizon, leaving the star-studded sky open and clear and resplendent. He isn’t alone, and nearly starts out of his poncho before he remembers why he came out this way and recognizes Merrin sitting on the edge, kicking her dangling feet back and forth. She seems to notice him at the same time he notices her.

“Did nobody ever warn you about sneaking up on a Nightsister?”

Cal smiles in the way he can’t help but smile whenever she’s near. “They probably did, and I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“Foolish of you,” she says, patting the spot on the grass next to her. “What are you doing out here?”

Cal accepts the invitation, and eases himself down beside her, dangling his legs over the edge as she did. “I wanted to make sure you were okay, and to keep you company if you didn’t want to be alone.”

She smiles a little, making the dimples in her cheeks stand out. “Thoughtful of you. Were you enjoying yourself?”

“I was. Saw knows how to throw a pretty good shindig.”

“I will have to take your word for it. I haven’t been to many shindigs, as you call them.”

“Yeah, I guess Dathomir wasn’t really known for it’s party scene.”

“As a matter of fact,” she says dryly, “It wasn’t.

“Did you meet Jyn?”

“Was she the little one you were talking to?”

Cal sighs deeply. “Yeah, she was.”

Merrin draws the silence out, leaving room in the air between them for Cal to say what he was thinking. He wasn’t even sure how to express it, but felt compelled to try. Besides, if anyone knew how he was feeling, Merrin would.

“She’s only eight. Saw’s training her for the field.”

Merrin makes a neutral humming noise in the back of her throat. “It will be good for her to learn early. Better start now, so she will be stronger when she’s grown.”

“Maybe, but I don’t know. She’s really young, and I…. I never really thought about the kind of childhood we had, and how it really wasn’t a childhood at all, until now. And it’s hard to wrap my head around.”

“It is difficult to see it happen to someone else with your own eyes, now that you’re grown.” Merrin’s voice is unusually gentle, but she wastes no time getting to the heart of the issue as usual.

“Yeah, exactly. I wish she could grow up in a more peaceful galaxy, and not have to fight.” He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, suddenly overwhelmed by a bitter surge of emotion. “And she’s not just out there for her own life. These rebels are fighting because so many can’t fight for themselves. She’s going to be responsible for a galaxy full of people older than her, adults who should be protecting her, not the other way around!  And it’s not… it’s not fair.”

The sentiment sounds childish to his own ears - he’s long stopped believing that the universe was fair - ��but his chest aches with the truth of it. What he wouldn’t give to live in a world where he and Merrin could have had their childhoods free of fighting and and death and raw survival, where they could simply be two teenagers: Drinking and talking and watching the stars. Where Jyn could simply be a child. With her parents. Going to school, making friends her own age, catching bugs and playing with dolls and collecting model starfighters.

As if she could sense his thoughts, Merrin says “There’s no use dwelling on what could have been, Cal. This is the world we’ve been given. We’re here, so we’ll keep her as safe as we can for as long as we can, and when we can’t anymore, well. You and I survived, didn’t we?”

He glances at her to find she’s already holding his gaze.

“Yeah, I guess we did.”

“Then why can’t Jyn?”

Trust only in the Force.

He takes a deep breath in and exhales, and with it releases his fear and anxiety and regret into the Force, like snow melting off a mountainside.

Sometimes, he thinks Merrin would have made a better Jedi than he ever did.

“You’re right, as always,” he says, and a comfortable silence ensues between them for the next few moments as they watch the stars together.

“Hey,” Cal says, tilting his head towards the southwest. “That constellation kind of looks like Greez.”

She follows his gaze, searching the horizon with bright eyes. “Where?”

He extends his arm and points up at the vaguely Latero-shaped cluster of stars. “There. See?”

“Huh. I think it sort of looks like a dick.”

“Do you mean it actually looks like a penis, or that Greez is just a dick?”

Merrin considers for a moment. “Yes to both.”

Cal snorts.

They carry on that way, and make a game of trying to find the shapes of their friends in the stars. Until something occurs to Cal.

“Hey, why did you leave anyway?” He asks.

“Well, it was… you know.” Merrin sighs, and Cal copies her earlier silence, the open air of the night waiting for her words.

“On Dathomir, and even with you and the crew of the Mantis, I always knew that I belonged, and it’s easy to know what to do. I’ve… I’ve never been around so many people before who didn’t know me.”

Cal thinks he knows what she means, but he lets her go on.

“Cere has her music, and Greez loses our money at games, most beings find you handsome and pleasant and easy to talk to, and of course everyone loves your little droid. But I don’t know what the rules are, yet. To being with so many people who aren’t like me.”

Cal feels his face flush hot at her words. Merrin thought he was handsome? But he didn’t let himself dwell on the compliment.  

“You know you’re one of us though, right?”

Merrin had an impressive sabacc face by anyone’s standards, but Cal had known her long enough by now to learn her tells. Right now, for instance, the slightest tension in her brown told him that she wasn’t entirely sure.

“Hey, I mean it. Socializing takes practice, it definitely did for me when I first ended up on Bracca. The first year was awkward and confusing, but we really care about you. I know it won’t be the same as your sisters on Dathomir, but you have a place here, for as long as you want it.”

Merrin nods, slow and contemplative. “I do, and I care about you too, but it doesn’t feel the same as I thought it would all the time. So many things are unfamiliar, it gets overwhelming. Cere’s music was nice but I don’t know any of the songs that the others do. The music on Dathomir wasn’t quite so… exuberant, but at least I knew all the words.”

Cal leans back on his arms to better look her in the eye.

“Well, that problem shouldn’t be a hard one to fix.”

Merrin mirrors his movements to regard him in return. “What do you mean?

“I’ll send you some music before the next shindig, whenever it is.”

Merrin raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You want me to listen to that caterwauling you call music?”

“First of all,” he says, holding up a reproachful finger. “It’s not caterwauling. And I’ll make you a playlist, even. Cal Kestis’ Guide to Exploring the Galaxy Through Music. And next time Saw has a party you’re going to sing and get drunk and be ridiculous with the rest of us. We can pretend we’re regular, irresponsible teenagers having fun for once.”

She turns away again to study the terrain below them. “I would do no such thing. I am the epitome of grace and beauty, and will not bring disgrace upon the Nightsisters of Dathomir by fraternizing with the likes of you in such a way.” Her tone is imperious and unyielding, but he notices the faintest upturn in the corners of her mouth and knows she's only teasing.

“That’s a lie! You’re just as weird as the rest of us, admit it.”

“I should sue you on grounds of defamation of character.”

“How? You don’t know any lawyers and we’re both enemies of the state.”

“Semantics.” She lies down onto her back, face tilted to the night sky. The light of Corvus’ moon casts a glow on her face that makes her grey complexion look like a moon itself, ethereal and resplendent. “Very well. I will let you educate me about ‘music,’” she says, making quotes in the air with her fingers, “on one condition.”

“And what would that be?”

“Next time we’re at one of these, what did you call them? Shindigs? You are going to dance with me.”

Cal hesitates. “Well… I’m really not a very good dancer, Merrin.”

“I know that. But I have hopes of improving you. You will find I am a marvelous teacher. My sisters and I would dance when we had… nights like this.”

She doesn’t elaborate, but Cal is no stranger to longing for a past that was cruelly ripped away. As shy as he felt about dancing in public, he wasn’t going to let her miss a chance to give her back something she loved about her home.

“Okay then. You can teach me to dance.”

Merrin grins, looking delighted.

Yeah. He would waltz arm-in-arm with the Ninth Sister if only to see Merrin smile like that again. He copies her in lying down on his back, breathing deeply of the forest air.

Moments where it’s just the two of them together, without the rest of the crew or even BD-1 around are few and far between and tragically short at that, so Cal decides to relish every minute of it as it is. The stillness, the beauty of the night sky on Corvus, lying next to her so close their shoulders are a hair’s breadth from touching, and nowhere they need to be for the next standard rotation.

Yeah, Cal could get used to this. He sneaks another glance at Merrin.

Judging by the way her eyes are closed and her breathing has deepened, Merrin is even more relaxed than he is.

He smiles, glad that she’s finally resting properly. Sleep is hard to come by in their line of work, and Merrin works harder than the rest of them, since her magick is so vital to sneaking the Mantis past Imperial blockades.

The thought of work and blockades and their myriad responsibilities must be what jinxes him, because just at that moment, his comm chirps and Merrin jerks awake.

“Sorry, Merrin,” he says sheepishly. He wishes whoever was trying to get in touch with them could have at least given her a few more minutes to sleep.

“It’s fine,” she replies. “See who it is, it might be important.”

Regretfully, he answers the comm. “Cal here.”

“You kids better have been kidnapped or something,” blares Greez’s voice from Cal’s wrist. “Because if I find out you two have been canoodling in those woods, I swear I’ll-”

“Kriff, Greez! No one’s canoodling!” He silently damns his own face for blushing, and hopes Merrin doesn’t notice. “We were just on a walk.”

“Oh, that’s what they’re calling it these days? And where did you hear that language?”

“The last time? From you,” Cal deadpans.

"Yeah okay, smartass. Merrin’s with you?”

“She is,” Merrin says.

“Swell. Look, fire’s getting low, Saw’s getting impatient, Cere broke a string, and that little droid of yours is about to bust a servo with how much he’s worrying about you. So you might want to get back here. We’ll pack up the Mantis, make the jump to Taanab and sleep on the way. Got it?”

Cal sighs, and shares a knowing look with Merrin. So much for peace and quiet.

But such was the life of survivors like them.

“We hear you, Greez. We’ll be back shortly.”

“And no detours! Don’t need you two giving each other any diseases or-”

“Yup, we got it, thanks,” he says quickly, before Greez can add any more input on what they should or shouldn’t do on their way back. “Cal out.”

He shuts off his comlink, closes his eyes, and sighs for what feels like the millionth time that evening. When he opens his eyes, Merrin is pointing towards the southwest.

“Like I said. Dick.”

He laughs, embarrassment forgotten in a moment.

“You were right about that,” he says, then stands up and offers her a hand for assistance.

The scathing look she gives him would have cowed a lesser man, but Cal stands his ground, silently daring her to accept his chivalry. She does give in, as he knew she would, using him as leverage to pull herself to her feet.

But what he didn’t know that she would do was draw herself closer still and wrap her arms around his shoulders.

It takes him by surprise, but he gathers himself quickly. The gaping hole in his chest that made their last (and so far, only) hug a rather painful ordeal is now nothing but a blot of pinkish scar tissue, so he returns her embrace wholeheartedly, settling his arms against her back and waist. Merrin takes a deep, tremulous breath, and he rubs her back tenderly to soothe her.

She doesn’t show any interest in letting go yet, so he lets himself linger as long as she’s willing to, dreading the moment of pulling away. He can’t remember the last time he had ever felt like this. Physical affection on Bracca and the Mantis was limited to back slaps and shoulder pats and handshakes sealed with the spit of a promise. He remembers falling asleep cuddled next to his fellow crechemates as a very small youngling at the temple, but they had abandoned such childish actions when they left the creche. Now that he considers it, he can’t remember the last time he had been held.

And suddenly he feels untethered and desperate and weak at the knees and he squeezes her as close to him as he can without hurting her. He lets out a harsh breath that turns into a whimper, and muffles the sound in the crook of her neck. Her arms around his shoulders tighten in response. He imagines himself physically soaking in the hug, letting her warmth and her weight in his arms seep through his skin and shore up his defenses that have been stretched too thin for far too long.  

A hundred years could have gone by, and Cal would have been content for both of them to stay right where they were for the entirety of it. But Merrin loosens her grip on him so he reluctantly does the same. It’s only then he realizes that he had managed to lift her completely off her feet, and she drops the few inches back to the ground awkwardly, landing on his toes.

“Ow, kriff, I’m sorry,” He fumbles. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t apologize,” she chuckles, tugging the hem of her tunic back into place. “It was nice. You’re a good friend, Cal. You give good hugs.”

Affection wells in his chest and swells his heart so full he’s afraid it will burst. His feelings for her lately have been… complex. And confusing. And he doesn’t really know what to do with them, except to stay by her side for as long as he can, wherever they go.

“I’m- I’m so glad I met you,” is all he knows to say. And as an addendum, “You give good hugs too.”

The words sounded lame as soon as he said them, but Merrin beamed as if he had recited the sonnets of Adranax.

Until her face nearly splits down the middle in a massive yawn she belatedly tries to cover with the back of her hand. He puts an arm around her shoulders then steers them both towards the path that will take them back to the others.

“Come on,” he says. “Long day tomorrow.”

“It always is, isn’t it.”

“That’s true.” He takes one last look behind them at the moon-soaked landscape, committing it to memory as best as he can.

This is a night he never wants to forget.

[bedlamsbard]

Part 4 of the other side AU concept!  This will probably be six parts in total.   The AU is Backbone-based and uses Backbone backstory up until the present day.

Previous: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

About 5.8K below the break.

***

The air was hot and humid, making both Twi’lek women wince as the Ghost’s ramp opened.  Hera looked automatically at Kanan, anticipating his indulgent grin, but he was looking straight ahead.  There was nothing of her Kanan in him now – nothing of Kanan at all, just the Imperial Inquisitor left, the lethal sword hand of the Force clad in human raiment.

The sea was visible through the trees just to their left.  The Imperial base here on Scarif was made up of an archipelago of small islands, connected via transit tubes.  The salt tang of the water made her nose tickle; Hera half-expected it to be overlaid with the scent of blood.  So many people had died here.  So many good people, so many bad people, so many who had just been doing what they thought was right, both Rebel and Imperial.  She had known and liked Cassian Andor, and a few of the other commandos who had gone with him to Scarif against orders.  Chopper had actually gotten along with Cassian’s droid K-2SO, which had been a minor miracle.

Cassian should have lived to see the Rebellion succeed.  So should Jyn Erso and Bodhi Rook and Admiral Raddus, everyone who had died at Scarif, at Yavin and Hoth and Endor and the hundreds of other engagements between the death the of the Republic and today.  Bail and Breha Organa.  Saw Gerrera. Her mother.  Ezra and Kanan.  They should all have lived.

The Death Star plans are here, Hera thought with shocked realization.  Right here, right now.  The battle station wouldn’t be complete for another six years, but most of the plans would still be accurate.  And it would prove it existed.

She dragged her attention back to the present.  There were stormtroopers standing guard on the vault-like entrance to the landing pad’s transit tube, eyeing them with clear distrust and a little fear.  Kanan and the other Hera ignored them, striding forward in perfect step.  Hera and Chopper followed, suspecting that she probably should have fallen in on Kanan’s other side for symmetry’s sake but knowing that she couldn’t manage it now.

The stormtroopers fell back before Kanan’s approach, one of them hitting the door control.  The other Hera nodded a little to them as the four stepped inside; the doors closed with a frighteningly final sound before the transit car began to move.

“How are you planning to get into the vault?” Hera asked in a low voice.

The other woman tapped the code cylinders next to her rank badge.  “ISB has access.  So does the Inquisition.  It will drop a flag, but I overwrote my access level with Agent Beneke’s so with any luck that won’t be immediate.”  She glanced at Hera. “There aren’t a lot of nonhumans in the service. I’ve never actually met one of them, but I know there’s at least one woman in the ISB, a Togruta.  That’s who your creds will read as if you have to use them.”

“I’m not a Togruta,” Hera pointed out.

“I know, I changed it in the system to read as a Twi’lek and replaced her image with yours.  It shouldn’t end up mattering unless someone here has met her.  Most people don’t bother checking creds when there’s an Inquisitor in the room.”  She smiled at Kanan, who tilted his head a little in acknowledgment but didn’t speak. “Besides, most humans can’t tell nonhumans apart.”

“Twi’leks and Togruta are very different,” Hera said, startled.

“Most humans are stupid,” the other Hera said. “Present company excluded.”

Kanan snorted softly.

Hera held back her automatic response, which was something along the lines of, You spend too much time with Imperials.  It wasn’t that she hadn’t run into that problem within the Alliance or among civilians, but it hadn’t happened more than a dozen times since she had left Ryloth.

The other woman flicked a sideways glance at her, but didn’t say anything else.  They stood in silence until the transit car deposited them at the Citadel Tower, the doors sliding open to reveal wide gray corridors filled with more Imperials than Hera was, frankly, comfortable being near – stormtroopers and shoretroopers moving in formation, officers and technicians, security droids and a few astromechs –

She squared her shoulders and reminded herself that as far as anyone was concerned, her borrowed uniform was hers and she was as much an Imperial officer as any of them.  She followed Kanan and the other Hera out of the transit car, Chopper rolling along beside her.  She was interested to note that Kanan’s mere presence cleared their way without him having to do anything more – a few officers actually jumped out of the way when they saw him coming.  If he noticed, he didn’t show it.

Gone, Hera’s mind gibbered silently as they made their way down the long corridors.  All gone.  Kanan had been one thing; but this part of Scarif was simply gone, vaporized by the Death Star.  She would have had the same reaction had she gone to Jedha or Alderaan – she had been expecting to have to do the latter.

No one stopped them. They arrived at the entrance to the data vault to find a single technical officer at the data station outside the vault’s heavy doors.  She looked up at their approach, then did a double-take. “Sir – ah – Inquisitor –”

Kanan tipped his head a little.  The other Hera stepped forward, her expression cool, and slid her code cylinder out of its pocket.  “We require access to the vault,” she said. “ISB-327, ISB-398, INQ-065.  Authorization, ISB Five Nine Seven Eight Aurek Senth Isk Three Nine Two.”

The technical officer’s eyes were still fixed on Kanan as she took the code cylinder with shaking hands. It took her three tries to get it inserted.  Hera held her breath, watching and wishing that she had a blaster just in case, but at last the data station chirped approval.  The technical officer handed back the code cylinder and touched a control on the console, opening the massive vault door behind her.  “You’re – you’re cleared, ma’am – ah – Inquisitor. What files are you –”

“We’ll recover them,” the other Hera said, sliding the code cylinder back into her uniform pocket. “Take a caf break, Lieutenant.”

“I – I’m not supposed to –”

Kanan met her gaze. She squeaked and almost tripped stepping out from behind the data station.

“We’ll be done in fifteen minutes,” the other Hera said. “Come back then.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the technical officer said faintly.  She gave them a wide berth, skating the wall until she reached the exit.

The other Hera let out her breath. “Chop, plug in.  Find us that file – Cluster Prism, you said?”

“Cluster Prism,” Hera confirmed.  “And Stardust.”

Kanan gave her a sharp look, and the force of that pale glare over the black mask staggered her for an instant. “You only said Cluster Prism before.”

“I – I’ll explain later. Just – let’s get those files.”

The other woman’s mouth compressed into a thin line, but she nodded to Kanan.  “You get the files.  Chop and I will stay here and locate them for you and head off anyone who comes calling.”

“Why you?” Hera said, a little surprised.

“An Inquisitor can’t stay out here,” she explained. “It looks bad.  And my creds are real; yours aren’t.”

Hera nodded.  As Chopper rolled over to the data station and plugged in, she and Kanan turned down the long, dark corridor to the data vault. The corridor let out into a harshly lit platform with a window that revealed the data vault itself – long columns that stretched out of sight up and down, each closely stacked with thousands of data files.

What the Rebellion wouldn’t do for all of this, Hera thought, looking up at them as Kanan bent over the computer station.  Some of it – maybe most of it – wouldn’t be relevant anymore, but others would be.  All the Emperor’s surviving projects that the Alliance knew about had been spread out between his successors, but Hera had no doubt that more of them were lurking out there, waiting to take the Alliance by surprise when they were least prepared for it. It would take months to retrieve and copy all the files here, though, and she didn’t have that kind of time.

Kanan was speaking quietly into the comlink on his left gauntlet.  As Hera was looking up at the data vault, she saw a green light flash to her right and a little below her line of sight. “That’s Cluster Prism,” Kanan said, removing his mask and hooking it to his belt. “You’ll have to use the handles.”

Hera supposed that with the sheer mass of data here there wasn’t really a more efficient method. She stepped up to the window and grasped the handles, turning them this way and that until she got the hang of their movement.  It wasn’t too different from flying a starfighter, actually, if less exciting; she supposed the adrenaline rush of stealing data from the Empire made up for it. She was able to retrieve the Cluster Prism file from its location and bring it over to the window, where it slid into the drawer at the base.

“I’ll get the Stardust file while you copy that,” Kanan said.

Hera nodded and took it over to the computer set into the wall, pulling a blank datacard out of her jacket.  Modern datacards could store almost twice as much as they had been able to a decade earlier, so with any luck it would transfer without difficulty as long as the computer could still read it.  She held her breath as she inserted the card, then let out a relieved sigh as it slid into the slot.  The bulky data file took a big more finagling, but after a moment it beeped confirmation as Hera set the computer to copy it over.

Kanan came up behind her, another data file in his hand. “What is this one?” he asked.

“It’s the plans for something called the Death Star,” Hera said.

His eyebrows shot up. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Hera grimaced. “No. And it’s not for the Alliance; we already have those plans.  I want to give that to someone in this universe, to prevent what happened in mine from happening here.  If you and Hera don’t mind making a stop after we leave here –”

“What’s the Death Star?”

“It’s a battle station,” Hera said, wincing at the memory. “A massive battle station the size of a small moon, capable of destroying a planet.”

“That’s not possible.”

“It is,” Hera said. “I’ve seen it.”  She glanced back at him. “That’s what happened to Scarif.  The Empire destroyed their own base in an attempt to keep the Alliance from getting the plans, but the commando team here had already transmitted them to the Rebel fleet.”  She didn’t bother going into the details between the Death Star at full planet-destroying capacity and the lesser havoc it had wrought on Jedha and Scarif.  With any luck, this universe would never have to know.

“And who do you want to give the plans to?” Kanan asked. “There’s nothing like a – a rebel alliance, not right now, anyway.  Just a lot of partisan groups that operate in different systems and sometimes share information.”

“There will be,” Hera said with certainty. “There’s someone I can give them to.  I have a message for him anyway.  It’s who I would have gone to if you hadn’t agreed to help me.”

He didn’t ask why she wasn’t naming her contact here, not in the middle of an Imperial base.

The computer beeped as it finished copying the Cluster Prism file and spat out both the original file and the data card.  Hera switched over to a new data card and exchanged the Cluster Prism file for the Stardust one while Kanan went to return it to its original location.

“What will you do?” she asked Kanan as he came back over. “Once we’ve left here, I mean.  You can’t go back to the Empire.”

He shook his head, though his eyes were shadowed.  “Hera wants to see her family,” he said. “And we do know where Free Ryloth is right now – the ISB keeps track of the fleet’s location, even if they usually don’t do anything with that.”  He glanced sideways at her and added carefully, “She doesn’t talk about her family, but she was upset when you said your mother was dead.”

“If it’s any help,” Hera said, “my father liked Kanan.  More than he liked me sometimes, to be honest.”

The corner of his mouth curled up. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“I left home when I was eighteen,” Hera said. “My father has never really understood why, even today. He thinks I should have stayed on Ryloth.  Not that he was trying to keep me safe, but he thinks I should have been fighting the Empire back home instead of somewhere else.  It’s not that I don’t know that he loves me, but he’s always resented that I decided to prioritize fighting the Empire over fighting for Ryloth.  He does love Jacen, though,” she added, and Kanan’s face did something complicated.

“What is he like?” he asked. “Your son, I mean.”

Hera glanced down, smiling. “He’s smart.  He likes animals – every time we’re back on Lothal, half a dozen Loth-cats and sometimes a Loth-wolf turn up at the Ghost to say hello, and the blurrgs on Ryloth love him.  I think he’ll be a good pilot, too, he’s already got the reflexes. He’s – he’s a very happy child.  I just don’t see him enough.”  She looked up at Kanan again.  “Ah – a friend of mine says he’s Force-sensitive, but it might not last.”

“It doesn’t always at that age,” Kanan said. “You can usually tell, but not always.”  He frowned a little, as if in memory, but didn’t explain further. “He sounds like a good kid.”

“He is,” Hera said. “I wish –”  She didn’t go on, relieved when the computer beeped it conclusion.  She retrieved the data card, handed the file to Kanan to return, and made sure both data cards were clearly labeled.  The last thing she needed to do was turn up back in her own timeline with outdated Death Star plans instead of the Cluster Prism ones.

He had his mask back on by the time she turned around.  They left the vault to join the other Hera, who was standing next to the data station with Chopper.  “Got them?” she asked.

Hera nodded.

“Then let’s get out of here.”

*

“Do you normally get this reaction?” Hera asked after the Ghost had left Scarif behind and was ascending upwards towards the shield gate. The traffic control officer had been ecstatic to see them go, in a subdued, Imperial kind of way. “They practically threw us offworld.”

“Imperials hate Inquisitors as much as everyone else does,” Kanan said, his hands on the co-pilot’s controls and his gaze fixed straight ahead. “They especially don’t like having me around; I scare the blazes out of them.”

“Why?” Hera said, startled. She had never seen any Inquisitors other than from a distance, but she didn’t think that Kanan was worse than the ones her crew had intercepted.

“Because I’m human,” Kanan said, his voice even. “There were one or two others when the Inquisition started out, but these days I’m the only one.  Everyone else is a nonhuman, and that’s the way the Emperor likes it, since it keeps the rest of the service on their toes.  As far as they’re concerned, the aliens can do what they want to each other, but once a human’s in the mix –”  He stopped abruptly, a muscle working in his jaw.

His Hera shot a sideways glance at him, a little grief in her eyes.  Kanan’s gaze cut towards her briefly and he went on, “Most Imperials don’t like the reminder that they’re just vulnerable as all the alien rebels out there.  And they take orders from a nonhuman Inquisitor easier than they do from me. And when I was in the field with my master –”  He stopped abruptly.

He was silent as they slipped through the shield gate and began to move past the star destroyers. The other Hera had a short exchange with the traffic control officer onboard the gate, then they proceeded past the star destroyers and went to hyperspace as soon as they were out of range of the planet’s gravity well.  The girl got to her feet and said, “I’m going to change,” leaving Kanan and Hera alone in the cockpit.

He started to strip off his armor without looking at her.  Hera unfastened the top of her jacket, but said, “If you want to tell me what happened – she doesn’t know, does she?”

“No.”  He put his fingers to his forehead, looking weary. “A lot of junior officers are around the same age as me,” he said finally. “Stormtroopers too.  My master –”  He touched his notched ear, but it was clear that the injury wasn’t what he was thinking about.  “By most standards,” he said haltingly, “my master didn’t treat me – well, I guess. And I’m human, and except for the uniform look pretty much the same as most of them.  And I’ve got the right accent,” he added, this last in such pure upper-class Coruscanti that it made Hera’s back teeth ache.  The first time she had heard her Kanan use it she had almost jumped out of her own skin.

“My master hurt me pretty badly,” Kanan went on, not looking at her. “And he didn’t really care who saw him do it.  Imperials really don’t like seeing a Pau’an do – that – to a nice human boy.  And even in uniform I look right, and I sound right, and – there was nothing they could do about how he treated me, though if they were high-ranking enough they could at least tell him to take it to his own tent or cabin or whatever.”

“Which didn’t make it any easier for you,” Hera said gently.

Kanan rubbed his knuckles across his scarred jaw. “No.  But I was never paying much attention to anything besides him at the time, unless he told me to.  And he didn’t do that when we were in camp – on base – whatever.  I didn’t really realize any of that had been going on until the first time Hera and I were on an op with someone who had seen me with him.”

“How did that go?”

“He was a friend of Hera’s. He was scared out of his mind for her. That was three months ago, by the way.” He touched his fingers to his forehead, looking unspeakably weary.  “My master didn’t think he was being cruel.  And I didn’t – I didn’t really realize it either, not by the point when they were letting me out in the field with him.”

“When was the last time you saw him?” Hera asked, tentative.

“Last week.”  He shot a sideways glance at her.  “I had to go back to the Crucible to check in.  The Whip won’t let us be in the same room alone together anymore – which is not on my behalf by any means.  He just doesn’t like the Hunter.”  He looked down at his hands.  “She doesn’t know and she’s not going to.”

“Who’s the Whip?”

“He’s the head of the training facility at the Crucible – Inquisition headquarters, I mean.”  Kanan ran a weary hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tell you all that.”

“I asked,” Hera said.

He shook his head. “She doesn’t know.  She can’t know.  She can’t. She can’t.”

“Kanan –” Hera began uncertainly.  The helpless grief on his face was utterly unfamiliar.  Hera had seen it before on Alliance soldiers who had seen too much combat, Imperial deserters who had finally hit their breaking point, freed prisoners finally seeing the outside of an Imperial prison – but not on Kanan.

The door slid open behind her.  The other Hera came past her in a rush, putting her arms around Kanan as he buried his face in her shoulder. After a moment he raised his head and looked at her, anguished; she cupped her hands around his face and tipped her forehead against his, murmuring to him.

Hera got to her feet, fighting down her wave of irrational hurt. “Can I use your comm unit?” she asked quietly, not wanting to disturb them.

“There’s one in my room,” the other Hera said without looking up.  Kanan’s hands came up to grip her upper arms, tears streaming silently down his face.

Hera slipped out of the cockpit.

*

Later she sat by the comm unit in the other Hera’s cabin – her cabin – with her head tipped back against the wall.  She was balancing her holoprojector on her knee, looking at the old hologram of Kanan.

He should have been here.

Hera sighed and dragged her gaze out of the past, looking around the room.  It was scrupulously neat, with uniforms hung on a hook on the wall. Unlike Hera’s own cabin, there were no Twi’leki designs painted on the walls; the only real sign of personality was a discarded silk robe draped over the back of a chair.  Hera recognized it; her Kanan had given her the same one the year after they had met.

The comm unit beeped. Hera leaned over to read the transmission, then sent back the correct code.  There was a chance this wouldn’t work – but the response came almost immediately.  Hera noted the coordinates and got up.

She found the other Hera alone in the cockpit, her head in her hands.  She looked up as Hera came in, tear streaks on her face.  “What?”

“Can you go to these coordinates?”

“Yeah.”  She sat back as Hera leaned over her to input them in the navicomputer. “Kanan said you wanted to meet with someone else while you were here.  Is it –”

“It’s probably better if I take the Phantom,” Hera said. “I don’t think it will take long.”

The other woman looked like she was too tired to argue. “Take Chopper with you.”  She glanced at the coordinates.  “I’ll let you know when we’re there.”

Hera didn’t want to push her.  She started to leave, but the girl said suddenly, “He thought I didn’t know.”

Hera stopped, then went back to her.

“He was so badly hurt,” the girl whispered. “And I did notice when Cado found out about him being with me.  And I saw him with that – that Pau’an.  He doesn’t know I saw them.”  She looked at her hands, helpless.  “How could he think I didn’t know?”

Hera put a hand on her shoulder.  For a moment the other woman resisted, then her face crumpled and she leaned forward, crying silently as Hera took her in her arms.

*

They came out of hyperspace in an unoccupied system.  The star was a distant gleam just visible through the Phantom’s viewport, with a handful of planets unable to support life doing their slow dance around it.  The other ship in the system was too far away to make out with the naked eye, its running lights blending in with the star field behind it.

“Detaching now,” Hera said, hitting the control on the dash.

“Acknowledged.”  The other Hera’s voice was clear and calm, as if having something to do was helping her grief.  Hera suspected it did.  “We’ll be here waiting, Phantom.”

Hera gripped the control yoke and eased the Phantom forward out of the dock.  It gave her an uneasy feeling of déjà vu; she had forgotten that it would be the original Phantom and not the Phantom II until she had walked onboard.

Chopper muttering to himself was a familiar background sound as she brought the Phantom out of the Ghost’s dock and set her course for the ship showing up on her nav console. She flew by instrument until she was close enough to see it through the viewport, then transmitted the code she had been given.  A voice on the other end of the comm, fuzzy with encryption, told her what to do.

The corvette’s dock was only meant for speeders and skiffs, not a shuttle the size of the Phantom.  Hera docked at the airlock she was instructed to and shut down the Phantom except for the magnetic clamp.  She was met at the airlock by three crewmembers in familiar blue-and-gray uniforms; the female crewperson patted her down and came up with Hera’s holoprojector and the datacard with the Stardust file on it. After inspecting both, she handed them back to Hera.  Chopper got scanned by another crewmember and complained the whole time.

They led Hera and Chopper through the familiar corridors of the corvette to a room that she knew very well. It was something she had expected but wasn’t prepared for, aware of places where there should have been dents or repairs made that were still spotless, or, in one case, where a hatch had been entirely replaced in her own time.  The man sitting behind the table in the room stood up as she entered, and Hera fought back another wave of disorienting grief.  She hadn’t known him well, hadn’t met him more than a handful of times, but she had known him.

“Senator Organa,” she said, resisting the urge to salute. “Thank you for seeing me.  I’m Hera Syndulla.”

“A relative of Cham Syndulla, I presume?” he said. “Not the missing daughter.”

“Actually,” Hera said, “the answer to that is a little complicated.  I am Hera Syndulla, but I’m not that Hera Syndulla.  I’m from an alternate timeline, some years from now.”

Bail Organa’s eyebrows went up. “That’s a rather bold claim.”

“I have a message that might convince you,” Hera said.  She took the holoprojector out of her pocket and slid it down the table towards him; she had switched out the datadisk inside before coming over.

Senator Organa took the holoprojector, inspected it briefly, and then set it back down on the table before activating it.

Leia Organa’s image sprang up between them.  “Hello, Father,” she said.  “If you’re seeing this, it’s because General Syndulla was able to reach you.  I wish I could have come myself, but the method we used made that impossible.  I know that what General Syndulla has told you will seem very unlikely, but I swear to you that it’s the truth.  Please help her for the good of the Rebellion.”  Leia’s voice and expression had been calm through all of this, but for an instant that cracked, and she added, “Father – Mother – I miss you,” in a voice that trembled a little. “There are some other holos on this datadisk.  I don’t know if you’ll want to watch them or not, but they’re for you, both of you.”  She took a deep breath.  “I love you.”

Senator Organa paused the holo as it began to repeat.  He looked at Hera through Leia’s transparent image as Hera tried to remember how old Leia would be now.  Ten or eleven, she thought.

“General Syndulla?” he said.

“Of the Alliance to Restore the Republic,” Hera said.  “Or the Rebel Alliance, as it’s more commonly known.  The vote on the ratification of the New Republic will be held within a week, in my time.  Emperor Palpatine has been dead for almost a year.”  She met Senator Organa’s gaze and added, “Luke Skywalker was the one who sent me here.”

Senator Organa’s reaction was so slight that if Hera hadn’t been looking for it, she would have missed it.

“I assume I was executed by the Empire for treason,” he said.

“After a manner of speaking,” Hera said.  She took the datacard out of her pocket and laid it on the table. “I don’t need your help. I was able to accomplish my mission with – um – local aid.  But these are the plans that the Empire in my timeline to destroy Alderaan, a battle station called the Death Star.”

“To destroy –”  He went as pale as his complexion allowed, which, like Kanan’s, wasn’t very.

“I think it won’t happen here,” Hera said.

“Leia,” Senator Organa said, his gaze on the hologram. “She was offworld?”

“Yes.”  Unless he asked, Hera wasn’t going to tell him that she had been onboard the Death Star when Alderaan had been destroyed.

“I’m glad.”  His voice was low, distracted.  He looked at her suddenly.  “Do you know what else is on this disk?”

Hera shook her head, though she could guess.  If she had had any idea that there was a possibility of seeing her mother here, she would have brought more holos too.

Senator Organa activated the holoprojector again, switching it to the next hologram.  In it, Leia sat at this same table in the other version of the Tantive IV, holding her young son in her lap.  She looked a little tired, but then again not only were they still in the midst of the war but she had an infant only a few months old.  Hera remembered how those days had been for her, though not terribly well since she had spent the entire time sleep-deprived.

“Hello, Father, Mother,” Leia said. “If you’re seeing this, then either you believe Hera or you’re looking for evidence one way or another.  This isn’t meant to be evidence, but maybe it will be.”  She swallowed.  “Hera has probably told you what happened to Alderaan – what happened to you.  I know that you can stop what’s coming and that your daughter will never have to feel the way I do.”  She stopped as her son made a gurgling sound and waved one chubby fist; he was clutching a soft stuffed model of the Millennium Falcon in it that Chewbacca had made for him.

Leia lifted him up so that he faced the holoprojector.  “Ben, can you say hello to Grandpapa and Grandmama?”

Senator Organa made a low, stunned sound; he looked like he had been poleaxed.  Ben waved the Millennium Falcon vaguely in the direction of the holoprojector with Leia’s help, then she settled him back in her lap.  “I wanted you to see some things,” Leia said.  “I thought – Ben will have them when he’s older. But I wanted you to see them too, because my parents never had the chance.”  She smiled, a little shaky.  “I love you, Papa, Mama, and I miss you.  I wish you were here.”

Senator Organa put his hand down on the holoprojector, pausing it.  “Can you wait?” he asked Hera, sounding like he was suddenly having a hard time breathing. “I’ll have refreshments sent up.”

“I can wait as long as you need,” Hera said.  She hesitated, then said, “I – can take something back.  If you want.”

He nodded distractedly and left the room without saying anything else.  Hera sat down in one of the empty chairs at the table and looked at Chopper. “That could have gone worse.”

He told her that it still could, sounding so exactly like her own Chopper that for a few moments Hera could have been back on the Tantive IV in her own timeline, waiting for Leia to finish feeding her infant son before she joined Hera for the most recent reports from the front.

*

Kanan was sunk so deep in meditation that the world had frayed apart at the edges, leaving him with only the breathtaking clarity of the Force.  He didn’t like going that deep; it had left him uneasy even when he had been a child back in the safety and security of the Jedi Temple.  At the moment he wanted that clarity; nothing had been clear to him since he had gone to the Crucible, except at those times when the drugs the Inquisition sometimes used had sent him this deep into the Force. He hadn’t liked what he had seen then.

He could sense Hera sitting in the cockpit, fiddling listlessly with her datapad.  Her grief stained the Force; Kanan fought down the urge to go to her and let himself sink deeper into the Force instead.  Emotion bled away; he was aware of his tie to the Hunter stretching out from him, connecting him to the other Inquisitor. He didn’t know how to break that bond save by killing the Hunter, and he didn’t know if he could do that without dying himself; the Hunter had bound them together so tightly that back at the Crucible, they had breathed in unison, heartbeats matching each other; he had turned his head and Kanan had done the same without even thinking about it. Kanan hadn’t had to speak to him by the end; the Hunter already knew what he was going to say.

He sank further into the Force; if he lingered too long at this level the Hunter might well sense his attention and yank on that tie like Kanan was an anooba on a leash.  Kanan didn’t want to deal with that until he absolutely had to.

The Jedi taught that they were the Force.  Kanan felt it now; his physical body was a fading memory, the old agony of injuries nothing more than a shimmer someone else had felt.  They weren’t just his injuries, either; he felt a lightsaber burn slash across his eyes, a vibroblade take off his hand at the wrist, flames roar up around him.  He was back in his body now, but not his own body. He opened his eyes, but saw nothing but darkness.  Shut them again, and was alone with the Force.

No, not alone.

Somewhere in the dark, a wolf howled.

*

Hera returned to the Ghost feeling more exhausted than the excursion should have left her.  She was carrying a shoulder bag with a small box in it; she hadn’t asked what was in the box and Bail Organa hadn’t offered that information.

Kanan met her at the foot of the ladder in the common room. “Did you get what you needed?” he asked.

“I think so,” Hera said. She frowned at him; he looked tired, but also somehow triumphant, and there was something uneasily familiar about it that she couldn’t identify.

His Hera was standing near the door; she knelt down to smile at Chopper as Hera stepped out of the way so that he could descend.  He rolled over to her and began a diatribe about how rude the senator’s people had been. They hadn’t been; he just didn’t like being scanned.

Kanan bit his lip, then said carefully, “Hera – I think I can get Kanan, your Kanan.  Do you want me to try?”

[theewildflowers]

rebelcaptain fic recs (1/?)

I rewatched Rogue One recently and was reminded of how good the film is. Moreover, there is so much unexplored between Jyn and Cassian, so I found myself into a deep dive into #rebelcaptain. I’m bummed there aren’t more modern AUs with these two. If you have modern AU recs, please suggest them!!!

Here are some of the fics I’ve enjoyed, all set that everyone lives/nobody dies.

Five Times Cassian Sees Jyn Sleeping With Her Blaster And One Time He Doesn’t by SuchStuffAsDreamsAreMadeOn (T, 8k, canonverse) — It’s his blaster, of course.  A quick search of his bags had revealed that after he had agreed – impossibly – to let her keep it, and yet, in the days, weeks, and months that followed Cassian was never once sorry for his decision.  He would never admit it to himself but, despite all of K2’s nagging, he was glad that a part of him would always be there to protect her.

a study in meanings (part of the semantics series) by katsumi (T, 1.5k, canonverse) — “You are sleeping with Jyn,” K2 announces out of nowhere, and Cassian almost chokes. Or: Unfortunately for Cassian, K2 doesn't really get semantics. (My favorite fluff series!!!)

people think the strangest things by slugmutt (M, 4k, canonverse) — six times people assume Jyn and Cassian are married.

flight lessons by hapan (M, 1k, canonverse) — “One hundred percent of the crashes I have experienced involved you, Jyn Erso.” K2 informs her pleasantly. “Given that no other flight experience I've been involved in has experienced an abrupt descent, I can only conclude that you - oh. You're bleeding." Or, Jyn is slightly impaled and Cassian sees to her wound. Emotions are had.

ah, ah, got a little paycheck (you’ve got big plans, you’ve gotta move) by youareiron_andyouarestrong (T, 5k, canonverse) — For someone whose head barely reaches the top of his shoulder, Jyn Erso gets into a lot of fights.

you give me something by skitzofreak (E, 112k, canonverse) — In a slightly different universe, Jyn gets the chance to see the Holy City before the Empire strips it bare. As fate (or the Force) would have it, she won't see it alone.

you’ve got a second chance, you could go home (part of the Cassian Andor’s Guide to Cohabitation series) by brahe (G, 2k, canonverse) — They somehow, miraculously, survive the beach. They survive long enough to make it back to the base, and in the process, they make it home, too. They end up in the infirmary, and there's so many other more beautiful places Cassian wants to show her now that she's going to stick around, but for now he'll take what he can get, and spending his days and nights with her pressed against his side seems to be pretty good.

lift your open hand by skitzofreak (M, 7k, canonverse) — five kisses shared between Jyn and Cassian.

A Thousand Times Between Our Eyes by skitzofreak (T, 27k, canonverse) — His left hand was still clamped tightly on the back of her jacket (his jacket), but his right hand reached up and pushed at a thick lock of her hair as it drifted across her face. We’re okay, his eyes told her. We’re going to make it.

tell me more (and then some) by skitzofreak (E, 2k, modern AU) — For the life of her, Jyn can’t figure out why he always looks so damn indifferent to everything when he’s clearly anything but. She’d really like to figure it out.

[dalekofchaos]

My problems with Rey

I want to like Rey and I adore Daisy Ridley but her character was poorly written. There is very little development at all. It feels like everyone involved wanted Rey to be this strong female character without any build up or achieving an arc or struggles as a character, so style over substance. Instead of writing a great arc for Rey in TFA, JJ decided oh so brilliantly the best way to write Rey was to make her a mystery(mYsTeRy bOx) and her lack of development is even worse in TLJ. The other issue is Daisy doesn’t think Rey should have any flaws and that’s the problem. So here are my issues with Rey

Note. I’m not going to make the claim that she’s a ‘Mary Sue’ What I will claim though, is she is extremely overpowered, in ways that Luke and Anakin were not. They had special abilities sure, which was explained by them being ‘strong with the force. But they also had fatal flaws, they had obstacles to overcome -and what kept you interested in what was going to happen to them. Rey, besides being overpowered and hyper-competent, is pretty much well liked by everyone she meets (Luke and Anakin were not). She also seems to have no trials, tribulations, obstacles, or character weaknesses that force her to grow (Luke and Anakin both did).

Here are my issues with how they chose to write Rey’s character throughout the Sequel Trilogy

Rey selflessly chooses not to give away BB-8. Rey grew up on Jakku, dog eat dog world. She had no reason to be selfless on that planet. I do love Rey, but it really makes no sense that a person who was raised on a ruthless and violent planet of thieves and scavengers, abandoned and lived the life of a scavenger who barely makes enough to survive. It doesn’t work that she would be selfless and was willing to pass up all that food for a droid she just met. So I think it would help if Rey starts off as a mix of Han Solo and Jyn Erso. Someone who only cares about her own survival and is consumed by her own trauma but learns to overcome her trauma, start caring for other people and something bigger than herself. This would be shown by having Rey sell BB-8 and later after meeting Finn, she learns of the importance of the droid and she feels guilt and fights to get BB-8 back and learn to fight for something bigger than herself. That I think would’ve improved her arc in TFA

Rey perfectly flies The Falcon despite not flying a ship. In the movie she says she’s never flown before and doesn’t know how she did it. In The novel she says she flew ships at night and simulation. That’s all well and good, but if you choose to explain things in the novel, but not in the movie. Then you deliberately chose not to explain how a scavenger who never leaves the planet knows how to fly the Millennium Falcon.

She pulls off maneuvers and mechanical tricks that not even Han Solo could think of and a scene later he is dumbfounded and astonished by Rey

Being mentally probed by Kylo Ren is not a convincing nor acceptable excuse for her to somehow “get the idea to try using the same technique”. It doesn't work that way. it has never worked that way. Kylo Ren had to train all his life with Luke and adulthood with Snoke. All of a sudden, just because Rey turned the probe back on Kylo, she gained mastery over the force? Like Han Solo said "That's not how the force works" You can’t mind trick someone without knowledge of how to do it. You do not just magically figure it out on conjecture and a hunch…. and I don’t care if she failed the first time she attempted it. That doesn’t make up for it. Further, Rey should not know how to use a lightsaber, let alone be able to use it against someone who seems to actually have training with such a weapon.  It makes little sense for a lightsaber to be usable in any meaningful way by someone without formal training in its use. The thing is supposed to have a powerful gyroscopic force that makes it unwieldy when it is activated, requiring use of the Force to control it. Furthermore, all the weight is in the hilt, which also makes it unwieldy by that fact alone. An untrained user has a greater chance of hurting themselves than another person. they sure as hell can’t deflect blaster shots with it without use of the Force.

Effortlessly beats Kylo. Rey has no prior training. Never held a lightsaber. Rey fighting off thieves with her quarterstaff is not the same thing, it is understandable that Kylo was struggling because of his injuries, but Rey didn’t struggle against Kylo. Even Luke struggled with Vader and Anakin struggled with Dooku. What should have happened is as it looks like Kylo is about to win, Chewie from the Falcon fires his bowcaster to keep Ren at bay and both Rey and Finn make it to the Falcon. This way we can keep Kylo Ren strong and show Rey struggling to overcome Kylo. It will also show This is how powerful he is when injured, so imagine him at his peak. Instead we get a pointless fight instead of Rey and Finn just escaping Starkiller base while Ren collapses due to injuries and Rey beating Kylo served no purpose(the end goal to destroy Starkiller Base was already accomplished) and helped derail their villain of the trilogy.

The lack of a Hero's Journey. Imagine the traditional Hero's journey but take away any growth or struggle. Just teleport to the end. That's Rey

Rey hugs Leia. Leia hugging Rey out of nowhere instead of Chewie just doesn’t work. Why is she hugging and grieving with someone she just met when Chewie is right there?

Everything TFA was building her up was instantly ignored. How Maz got the Skywalker lightsaber? Never mentioned again. How Rey was drawn to the Skywalker lightsaber and what the force vision was meant to mean? Never addressed. Rey says that she’s classified information, “none of your business” Then her parents are revealed as junk traitors who sold her for drinking money and died in Jakku. If her parents were just junkers, how did they afford that space ship if they spent the money on booze? All that build up for nothing. The force can come from anyone, we all feel it but you build Rey up only to do nothing with her.

Rey has no character arc in TLJ. Rey doesn’t learn anything and I don’t feel like she has a character arc or journey. She starts her journey in TFA and I was excited to learn where her character would go. And TLJ does nothing with Rey. I do love Rey, but I don’t feel like it truly tests Rey and forces her to grow as a character. Rey is intriguing and we care for her, but her journey feels non existent. Luke and Anakin had struggles and journeys. I just don’t feel it from Rey. While learning the truth is a struggle for Rey, she already knows. She knew her parents, it really is not that big of a reveal. I am really disappointed with how TLJ handles Rey. Rey doesn’t have any struggles. Rey is all powerful and she is the same character she is from TFA.

Rey has a connection and starts to trust Kylo Ren…when only ONE DAY passes since Kylo has tortured her, killed Han Solo, and injured Finn. Rey then seeks comfort in the same man who has done nothing but hurt her instead of Luke. There’s a difference between being “forgiving” and there’s being blindly gullible. She went from wanting to kill him to believing he’s “our last hope”….for reasons. If there were a time skip, I could understand this change of heart, but one day passes and suddenly there is a change of heart?

Rey’s stupidity in TLJ. Rey’s plan. Rey has some vision of Kylo Ren deciding to help her out and locks herself in a box to fly straight to him, with no escape plan or regard for her own safety. As bad as JJ chose to develop Rey, I will admit that Rey is adaptable. Rey makes plans and strategizes. She has been raised as a scavenger, working hard for every day of survival and fighting for every item in her possession. While Luke and Anakin throw caution to the wind in order to succeed, Rey keeps a level head and fights her way through things. TLJ acts like that version of Rey doesn’t exist. 

Rey and Kylo Ren displays “raw power” in the force and doesn’t use that raw power to end the Throne Room fight against The Praetorian Guards sooner than it should have ended, instead resulting in the absolute worst fight in Star Wars history. There is no tension in the scene and it is pointless. Kylo Ren and Rey are fighting a faceless a group of guards that we know absolutely nothing about and have literally no purpose in the entire story except for this one fight. We know neither of the characters are going to die because these are just faceless red shirts and there is still like 30 to 40 minutes left of the movie. There are times where you can tell that some of the guards are just waiting their turn to fight and in one shot the editor literally digitally removed a knife from one of the guard’s hands because it would make no sense why he didn’t just stab Rey. There are multiple times where Rey, Kylo and the guards are just doing motions and actions because they look cool but serve no purpose but to look cool. Kylo stabbing the ground? Pointless. Rey twirling her rave stick around while someone falls behind her, pointless. Another annoying thing is that both of the characters are acting like they don’t have monumentally strong force powers. Hell, both of them get into a force tug of war right after the fight. Kylo can freeze people in place and stop blaster fire in mid air. Not even  once do we see them displaying their powers is what cheapens the fight. Kylo Ren is powerful enough to freeze a blaster and a person in place and Rey herself unlocked Kylo’s powers, so the two of them could have easily ended the fight sooner than it was dragged out. Kylo is powerful in the force but he SERIOUSLY could not stop a Praetorian Guard choke holding him and Rey struggled with a guard? Rey and Kylo were stronger in TFA and are just made weaker in the duel with the Praetorian Guards. Kylo could have frozen half of the guards and Rey could have mind tricked the other half into killing the frozen guards and Kylo and Rey could have finished them. They are masters of light and darkness, but they are made weaker.

Rey openly trusts a murderer and a proven liar because “they touched hands” and is surprised that said lying murderer wants to kill her friends and the very cause she believed in and only used her to kill Snoke. Rey then openly believes that said lying murderer about her parents being nobodies who died on Jakku when Rey is seen visibly watching her parents fly away. Rey KNOWS who her parents are, she does not need to hear it from Kylo Ren. Here’s the thing. Rey never wanted her parents to be anyone special. Rey never thought or wanted her parents to be important in TFA, she was literally going to pass up adventure and being important to stay on Jakku because she wanted a family. She didn't want to be important, the audience wanted her to be. Rian Johnson couldn't tell the fucking difference.. Rey knew who her parents were, she did not need to hear it from Kylo Ren. She did not want or need her parents to be anyone special, she just wanted them home. Rey sure is willing to believe someone who has done nothing but lie and hurt her over and over again.

My big issue with how TLJ handles Rey, is she does not learn anything. She was awakened by Kylo’s mind melding and has his powers transferred to her, she doesn’t even earn her powers on her own, it’s all from Kylo. She has the powers of the man who's been trying to kill her and her friends, she doesn't learn anything on her own nor is it her own awakening. Your big feminist icon has to learn everything from a man that’s been harming her from day one. How empowering....please kill me. She doesn’t learn anything from Luke and she feels like the same character in The Force Awakens. We see Luke showing Rey to feel the force and the Jedi’s hubris. The third lesson was deleted, but we did not really get to see Luke train her as a Jedi. Rey doesn’t learn anything. In the end we see Rey has the sacred Jedi texts, but Yoda pointed out that those texts were holding back the Jedi and doesn’t teaches her what she doesn’t already know. SO in the end, Rey doesn’t learn anything and that’s the problem.

The lifting rocks scene. Rey lifting the big rocks like they’re pebbles without even a hint of struggling physically drives me insane in the worst way because even if she’s powerful, so was Yoda and Yoda had a problem lifting the debris to save Anakin and Obi-Wan. We see trained Jedi struggle to use the force in The Clone Wars and that was the Jedi AT THEIR PEAK. We see Ahsoka, Kanan and Ezra struggling to use the force successfully in Rebels. Luke Skywalker struggled to stack those couple of small rocks on Dagobah and couldn’t lift his X-wing out of the water either, which I think would be pretty comparable to the weight of all those boulders. I love Rey and I want her to be strong but holy shit was that just completely unbelievable to me, she wasn’t even breaking a sweat and the fact that her smiling and running to Finn didn't break her concentration and crushing anyone coming out of that cave is completely laughable. Just look at similar characters in similar situations who show struggle and what Rey should’ve looked like during the boulder scene.

Rey in TROS looks like nothing ever changed. The same type of outfit from The Force Awakens, the same Lightsaber and the same hairstyle. Like nothing ever happened or changed. Like nothing ever changed. God forbid Rey looks like a mix of a Jedi Knight and Resistance Leader, godforbid Rey builds her own lightsaber, especially a Saberstaff. It’s almost as if JJ and Lucasfilm are afraid to develop Rey as a character and let her look different at all….*sighs*

And the big problem is we are expected that Rey will learn everything off screen….that’s the problem. You cannot just have a character who can do all these amazing feats, show her not being trained as a Jedi and make her even more powerful in the final movie with no build up whatsoever. Luke had like 3 years after ESB to learn more to become a Jedi Knight. This is why there should have been time skips. Three years of training with Luke on Ach-To and they return to The Resistance. 5 years pass in between TLJ and TROS and Rey has become a Jedi master. Instead we are expected to believe Rey has learned everything in the Jedi Texts in just a year.

When we first see Rey in the movie, she is levitating with the rocks while meditating. Just...what the hell? In all 6 movies and in the clone wars. We witness Jedi meditating, but not once do we see them meditating with rocks all around them. This was basically JJ Abrams “Hey fuck you, you think Rey’s overpowered? Well too fucking bad” The first moment I saw this scene, I knew the movie was going to be complete and utter bullshit

Rey’s lack of empathy for BB-8��s injuries after dropping a tree on the droid

Rey thinks she needs to earn Anakin’s Lightsaber....despite being an overpowered demigod

Despite wielding the force, Rey uses a blaster on the Stormtroopers

Rey suddenly learns force healing after only a year? Force Healing takes a long time of learning, but Rey just knows it because the plot demands it

Instead of talking and realizing they are both being used by Palpatine, Rey constantly goes apeshit and fights Kylo Ren every chance she gets

Rey accidentally kills Chewbacca(oh but not really because JJ doesn’t wanna make Rey a morally grey character)

One fight with Zorri Bliss and they’re good.....okay, sure, fine.

Rey, Finn and Poe treat C-3PO nothing but contempt and annoyance and suddenly he “takes one last look at his friends”

Rey is now Palpatine’s granddaughter. No build up or hints, she’s suddenly NOW Palpatine’s granddaughter, you know Rey nobody worked better despite my problems with it. But no, JJ the man who literally only has a job because of his family won’t let anyone come from nothing and build themselves into being a hero, she has to be related to the literal Satan of this universe.

Rey faces her inner darkness and Dark!Rey her face looks like Pregnant Bella Swan and has shark teeth....I wish I weren’t making this bullshit up.

Despite Ben being emotionally distraught by Leia’s death, Rey uses this opportunity to kill him. But only being too late does she realize she did the wrong thing and heals him.

Rey tells Finn. “People keep telling me they know me. No one does” That’s the problem. It’s three movies, we still don’t know Rey. We don’t know her because the movies haven't taken the time to actually get us to know anything substantial about her. By movie three of both the OT and the PT, we already knew the major conflicts/obstacles and dilemmas that drove both Anakin and Luke to take the respective paths they were currently walking. By the third movie in the sequel trilogy I still don’t know what Rey’s motivations are, why she has stake in anything or why Rey is a nice person when she grew up on a planet like Jakku. We still know nothing about Rey and that’s a problem

Rey constantly treats her friends as afterthoughts and extra baggage 

Rey attempts to go to Ach-To to exile herself and suddenly Luke appears. This movie attempts to paint the picture that Luke and Rey had this great relationship. She even calls him “Master Skywalker” Rey and Luke did  not have a good relationship. They barely even fucking train for like 3 days. She slices a rock in half, looks at some books, then argues with Luke and runs away. Even in a deleted scene, their third lesson. Rey shows nothing but disgust in Luke. But now they are a loving master and padawan? SINCE FUCKING WHEN???????

Luke lifts Luke’s old X-Wing because nostalgia and Mark’s fuck you to Rian. And Rey flies it because JJ desperately wants Rey to be the female Luke Skywalker

Rey is able to destroy the Emperor. Palpatine has the ability to destroy ENTIRE SPACE FLEETS WITH FORCE LIGHTNING and somehow Rey is able to send it back to him and destroy him. “I am all the Jedi” bullfuckingshit

“I’m Rey...Rey Skywalker” Rey didn’t need to be a Palpatine or take the Skywalker name. This isn’t me hating on Rey. Rey can be a great character by standing on her own. Rey being related to NO ONE was powerful and shows us that even someone who came from Jakku can be a powerful Jedi. She doesn’t earn anything on her own. She downloaded all of Kylo’s abilities. She took the Falcon, she made Chewbacca her personal uber, she took BB-8 from Poe and buried Anakin and Leia’s lightsaber on the literal symbolic oppression of the Skywalker family instead of something peaceful like Naboo or Ach-To. She has her own Lightsaber, but never uses it. Rey being a Palpatine and taking the Skywalker name undoes the beautiful story the revelation TLJ had does. She didn’t need to be a Palpatine and she didn’t need to take the Skywalker name or even their relics. Rey Nobody works. Here’s why. Rey’s story is her own, it is not her parents, it is not about where she came from, it’s about where she is going, and who she decides to become. Maz Kanata said “The belonging you seek is not behind you. It is in front of you.” Rey in the TFA trailers said “I’m no one” Rey never thought or wanted her parents to be important in TFA, she was literally going to pass up adventure and being important to stay on Jakku because what she wanted was her family to finally come home. She didn't want to be important or wanted her parents to be important. The audience wanted that. Any more lingering discussion of the possibility of Rey’s parents being ‘somebody’ only is distracting you from the actually beautiful story that is being told. Rey is a story of a girl who raised herself, who held onto hope for people who didn’t deserve it, she is a story of how light can be born from darkness, and Rey is story of someone who was scared of her own truth—but then finally faced it. Rey being a Nobody is the story I was skeptical of at first, but grew to love, the story that gives me more hope than any Rey Skywalker or Rey Solo story ever would. Rey calling herself "Rey Skywalker" was so forced and unnecessary because all the whiny pissants did not like that a girl was skilled and powerful in her own right and because Rey did not have a good relationship with Luke in the first place. JJ was so set in just making Rey a Luke clone that it just undoes character development. If Rey had to take a name, Solo or Organa would make the most sense since she actually had a relationship with Han, Leia and Ben. Say what you want about how RIan Johnson handled Rey in TLJ. At least he treated Rey like her own person, with her own journey, and her own desires and fears, rather than consigning her to be a vessel for OT nostalgia. And at least he allowed her to actually have a new outfit and new hair style. At least he let her change. Like him or not, Rian Johnson treated Rey with more respect and identity than JJ Abrams ever did. It means more than making her related to anyone because Rey was every lonely girl who wanted to be a part of something but didn't feel like they belonged. Every woman who learned to make her way in the world alone. Every person who clung to hope when they had nothing left. She is so many things to so many people. Rey Nobody can be fierce, angry and powerful without it connecting to a man or evil bloodline. She can love, be curious and emotional without being weak. She is a scavenger, a Jedi, and one half of a powerful Dyad. She is Rey of Jakku and that's all we needed. Rey calling herself a Skywalker denied her every last inch of who she was. Her character arc was ruined to please men that thought her power needed to be connected to a man for it to make sense. All we needed her arc to be was Rey accepting that she needs to be her own hero and loving herself for who she is, rather than who she wanted her hypothetical parents to be. And honestly Rey in TROS was a huge disappointment. Her entire character arc was regressed, she's back to wearing the buns and dressed all in white and sticks to the glorification of the Jedi. It's like everything she learned in the last movie never happened. And honestly her character in TROS  is what men think a "strong female character" is She fights, but they don’t have to deal with her processing internal pain. She loves, but they don’t have to deal with her fully exploring her desires. She’s a “badass,” & for them that is enough. When I say "A Palpatine is left and steals the legacy of the Skywalkers" I am not suggesting she doesn't deserve the title. I am saying that essentially, Palpatine won. Anakin, Padme, Luke, Han, Leia and Ben are all dead. Leia died for nothing. Leia deserved to see her son come home, and to see the end of the monster who ruined her family. She didn’t deserve to feel her child die. The entire line of the family is now extinct. The wiki even says "the extinction of the family name" what kind of depressing garbage is this? JJ Abrams ended the entire Skywalker saga on Palpatine successfully using love to manipulate, corrupt, hurt or kill every single Skywalker across three generations, ultimately resulting in the total eradication of the Skywalker, Solo and Amidala bloodlines, whilst Palpatine's heir lives on and claims the Skywalker name and legacy. Rey calling herself "Rey Skywalker" was patronizing and insulting and demeans what Rey's journey meant in the first two movies to everyone who loved her. Rey coming from Jakku and nothing but rising up as a heroic Jedi means more than "you have his power...you are a Palpatine" or "Rey Rey Skywalker" ever will. Women Of The Galaxy author Amy Ratcliffe says it best. “Even beyond the trappings of the Star Wars saga — the First Order, the Resistance, the Force — Rey’s story is inspiring, familiar, and timeless. Just because you come from nothing doesn’t mean you’re not part of the story. You’re not no one, because anybody can save the galaxy. Anybody.“

Compare Rey and Luke’s journeys in ANH and TFA. Rey wanders around and stuff is handed to her. Luke takes initiative and works for what he has. Let's compare ANH with TFA

Luke screws up on watching R2, then chooses to chase him down. He makes another mistake by spying on the Tusken Raiders instead of getting the hell out of dodge. This leads to him being knocked out, and rescued by Ben Kenobi.

Luke initiates the meeting with Ben Kenobi, and it happens because of his early bad decisions.

His aunt & uncle are killed, but thanks to his screw-up with R2 & the raiders, he and the droids are spared.

He chooses to follow Kenobi to Alderaan instead of staying on Tattooine.

He chooses to accept Kenobi's instruction in the ways of the Force, even though most people think it's a myth and a joke. Even though he's bad at it and doesn't seem to get any results at first.

He makes the decision that they're going to rescue Leia, potentially dooming their escape from the Death Star. This sets off a chain of events that leads to Kenobi's death.

Then he chooses to help fight the Death Star, even though he's not a member of the rebellion. He was offered a job with Han, and he could have ensured his safety by leaving with them. Instead he chose certain death.

Finally, he chooses to trust a literal voice in his head instead of the targeting computer.

Let's contrast that with Rey.

BB-8 runs into her. She tries to send him away, but relents and lets him follow her home.

She chooses not to sell him for food.

Finn wanders into camp on his own initiative.

The camp is attacked because BB-8 is there. The camp would have been attacked no matter what Rey did. The other scavenger was, I'm pretty sure, from the same camp. And if she'd sold him, BB-8 would also have still been in the camp.

She is forced to take the Millennium Falcon when the ship she wanted to use was blown up.

She chooses to go with Finn and bring BB-8 to the Rebellion Resistance.

She stumbles upon Luke's lightsaber, and runs away from it.

She accidentally runs into Kylo Ren while hiding in the forest.

He chooses to kidnap her because he senses something special about her.

After her first exposure to the Force, she learns how to use some of it, successfully, and escapes from Ren. And to her credit, escaping and trying the Force out is a choice she made, rather than something that passively happened to her.

Then she, um, is standing there when Han is killed.

She chooses to fight Kylo Ren, and beats him in her first lightsaber battle after closing her eyes and thinking about the Force.

She sort of chooses to go summon Luke back to civilization - I say sort of because it's not clear why she was picked to go over, say, Leia.

Luke makes mistakes, and he is an active participant in his story. Rey is just kind of there, most of the time. She doesn't make mistakes, but she doesn't really do much else.

Here is a thought, what are Rey’s motivations?

Rey wants to find her parents.

Rey wants to do the right thing.

Wants to bring back Luke Skywalker

Rey wants to find her place 

She wants to suck Ben’s tiddies. Wants Ben to return to the light, home and to call off the fleet

Has no real motivation to be on either side of the conflict, but chooses The Resistance anyway

Says she wants to kill Palpatine in cold blood, was close to giving in

What are Anakin's motivations?

Wants to leave a life of slavery and come back and free his mother

Wants to become a Jedi and become a hero

Wants to protect Padme

Wants to save Obi-Wan

Wants to stop Dooku and end the war before it can begin

Wants to be a good master to Ahsoka

Wants to clear Ahsoka’s name

Wants to stop the war

Wants to save Padme and his children's lives at the cost of the Jedi and doing whatever it takes and becomes Darth Vader

What are Luke’s motivations?

Luke is a farm boy who dreams of leaving his mundane life.

Luke discovers that his father -unlike what his uncle told him, was a heroic Jedi Knight

Luke, is reluctant and refuses the ‘call to adventure’, but after the Empire murders his Aunt and Uncle, he decides to Join Obi-Wan on the quest.

Save the Princess

Luke is angered by Obi-Wan’s death at the hands of Darth Vader, and seeks retribution.

Destroy the Death Star and save the Rebellion

To be trained by Yoda

Save Han and Leia

Luke discovers his father, the heroic Jedi, is none other than Darth Vader. After years of training, he sets out to redeem his father and turn him back to the light.

Rey has no personal stake in this war or motivations and she���s supposed to be the main protagonist.

Rey has never left Jakku before TFA and she tells Han that ”she never knew so much green existed” when they go to Maz’s castle.

In other words Rey must have had very limited knowledge of the world outside of Jakku and all she has heard from it are stories.

Rey who barely knows anything about the rest of the galaxy, to the point that she didn’t even know that forests existed what exactly is her personal stake in the current galactic conflict?

In TFA we saw The New Republic’s capital systems blown up by Starkiller Base and we never saw a reaction from Rey. We do see Finn and Han’s reactions. Also worth noting about Rey is that if she was unconscious throughout her involuntary travel to the Starkiller Base she was never actually aware of the Starkiller Base until just before Han, Finn and Chewie started planting the explosions in order to sabotage it.

Luke while he had no personal attachments to Aldeeran did actually get to see the horrible aftermaths of it’s destruction.

But Rey was barely affected by the destruction of the Capital systems. Most characters were not as affected as they should have been in my opinion but we didn’t even get to see her have an emotional reaction to it.

This was probably the greatest genocide in Star Wars history and our main hero is unaffected by it? Finn has a reaction to it and he’s supposedly NOT the main protagonist?

Rey really has no reason to care about the state of the galaxy. She only seems to care if people she knows are in danger.

The fact that she is supposed to be our main hero of this trilogy when she has next to no personal stakes in the well-being of the rest of the galaxy feels wrong to me.

Finn actually has stakes in this conflict since the FO took his family and childhood away from him and Poe has stakes because he actually lives in the New Republic and doesn’t want it to be under FO’s rule. Yet neither Finn nor Poe are considered the main protagonist? But oh wait, I forgot we can’t have a black or Latino man be the leading protagonist in Star Wars

The big issue I have with Rey as a character is she is a boring, lazily written character with a complete lack of development, barely any motivations and not a believable protagonist.

Rey is not allowed to have flaws or personal struggles or has a real hero’s journey. Which is disappointing because I truly loved having Star Wars be centered around a female lead and feel like it’s a missed opportunity. It’s not Daisy’s fault, I feel like the blame lies with Disney. I’m not sure if Disney got cold feet with a female protagonist and felt they would get backlash if they made her character naturally flawed but it’s storytelling 101 to have your protagonist faced with problems that aren’t easy to overcome and correlate to said flaws. Instead we got a hero who faces no real consequences, has no real goals, and can defeat everything in her path with abysmal training. Which ultimately makes for an extremely uninteresting hero. No hard training, no real consequences, no real flaws, no struggles or not even an arc and everything is handed to her. It just makes Episode IX predictable and boring. There is just not a reason to care to see what will happen with Rey. Finn and Poe are what’s keeping this trilogy alive, Finn had the most development in TFA, but someone decided "We can't have Finn be the protagonist of this trilogy", so they sabotaged his character the moment Finn uttered the word "sanitation" and reduced him to the black comic relief in the next movie. Poe is the one person with the most development and shows heroism in TLJ and someone decided "we can't have Poe be the hero of the trilogy" and proceeded to demonize and belittle Poe throughout the entire movie. The point is Finn and Poe had the most potential and their potential was squandered to prop up Rey as the protagonist of the trilogy when no one has a reason to root for Rey. Disney just failed Rey as a character.

[thelostgalaxyinspace]

From the dialogue prompts- “Tell me again.” ~~ thanks so much!

Thank you so much for all of your help. You are so kind and I really, really hope you enjoy!

TW: Talk of a parent’s suicide and death, nothing heavy or graphic, I just thought I’d say in case.  

*******************************************************************************************

Jyn Erso didn’t dream. She knows she did before Saw, but after being taught her to sleep light and with a blaster, Jyn never dreamed. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a dream but she could remember the last dream she had.

Her mother used taught her to make flower crowns out of night blooming flowers as her father named the lightning bugs that flew by the house. Jyn would laugh at the names and run after them through green hills and farmland. She would lie on the grass with her mother and look at the stars. She wore the crowns braided in her hair and she would ask her mother if the crown meant she was a princess. Her mother smiled.  

“You don’t want to be a princess, little Stardust,” Lyra would say softly. “You’d hate that. Boring meetings and boring policy and boring people. No. You’ll be great, Jyn, but you won’t be a princess.” Jyn had bit her lip and looked up at her mother, with big green eyes.

“But you’ll still make me crowns?” She asked. Her mother chuckled and smiled. Galen had come over to join them.

“Of course,” Lyra had said and picked Jyn up in her arms. Jyn squealed. Galen caught her a bug. Lyra finished the braid and that night, Jyn dreamed.

In the dream, all of the lightning bugs circled around her and when she turned around to show her mother and father, they were gone. The house was gone and she looked up for a starship, but those were gone too and all she could see for miles and miles and miles was the sky and the farmland. She didn’t remember feeling scared, she remembered feeling peaceful and Jyn supposed that it was good her last dream was happy.

Cassian Andor did dream and he dreamt a lot, especially after Scarif and sometimes he would tell Jyn about those dreams, but more often than not, he would wake up in a cold sweat that reminded him of long nights on his home planet and he would stand under the cold of the refresher and let water drop down and then circle and dance in the drain. Jyn stood outside of the door to the refresher and she would knock quietly asking if there was anything she could do because it was better than lying in bed listening to Cassian hold back choked sobs from inside a locked door, she couldn’t open and she knew he would never open for her.

Jyn woke up to gasping breaths and the sound of palms slapping against tile a year and two months after Scarif and she wasn’t worried because it was normal. A really messed up version of normal, but it was normal. She blinked sleep out of her eyes and pushed herself out of the bed.

“Cassian?” Her voice got lost in the dark room and she pushed the heavy blankets off and walked over to the closed door, looking at the pinlock. “Cassian, do you need anything?” He pressed her ear to the door and listened. She could hear the water and a few strangled cried, but nothing else.It was par for the course and Jyn yawned and sunk down to her knees in front of the door. “I’m here if you do,” she whispered softly. “And we can sit here all night if you need too.”  

“Tell me again.” At first it washed out by the sound of water beating down on the ground, but after a few seconds of silence he spoke again.”Jyn, tell me that again.” Low and urgent in a tone Jyn didn’t think she’d ever heard from him before, even on nights worse than this. She straightened and moved closer to the door.

“Tell you what again?” She whispered, scared that if she dared to make her voice louder, he’d stop talking. “That I’m here?” Something gnawed at her chest and she would have said anything to him at that point and it scared her.   

“No. That you’ll sit here all night,” he said. She nodded and perched up on her knees, moving closer to the door.

“I’ll sit here all night if you want. We don’t ever have to open the door and you don’t have to come out. I can just sit here.” She lowered herself from her knees and crossed her legs. The water stopped and Jyn exhaled softly. The silence was thick and she longed to say something, to offer some kind of comfort, but she didn’t think she could. She’d never been good at being there for anyone. No one had ever been there for her and she didn’t think she knew how, but for Cassian, she was willing to try.

“You’ll sit there all night.” His voice was thicker and Jyn frowned.

“Cassian, what’s wrong?” She asked and pressed a palm to the door. “Is everything alright?” Now that the water was off, she could hear better and she tried to control her own thumping heart. There was no response and Jyn pushed out some air before speaking too fast and too sharp. “You’re scaring me, open the door, Cassian!” Her eyes darted up to the pinlock and she wondered if she could slice them , if it came to that. “You don’t have to talk to me but can you please just-”

“Fest is an ice planet but I was never cold there until my parents died.” His voice was hoarse and Jyn was pressed against the door now, she could feel the cold metal against her ear and Cassian’s voice seemed closer, like he’d stepped out of the refresher.

“What are you talking about?” She whispered. “Just open the door, Cassian, we’ll work this out, please.”   

“When my father was killed by Stormtroopers, my mother killed herself after. I was six.” Jyn knew he was an orphan and she knew that he’d been young joining the rebellion, but he’d never spoken to her about it and certainly not on a night like this. “My parents would always put me to bed and my mother would sing to me in Festian. The night my father died, my mother put me to bed. I asked her to stay with me,” Cassian gave a small awkward laugh and another choked sob. “It’s pathetic, but I was scared.”

“You were six, it’s not pathetic.” Jyn straightened her posture and shook her head. “Your father had just died. It’s not pathetic.” She clenched her fist and took a shaking breath. It was times like this she hated Draven for turning Cassian into this. Someone who could only afford to feel anything when he was alone, someone with training so ingrained in him that he would call a six year old who lost his father pathetic.

“My mother promised she would stay, but when I woke up, she’d taken one of my father’s lullaby pills. I was always cold after that. I was happy when the rebellion took me off planet. It wasn’t cold where they took me to train.” There was a pause. “You’re never cold, Jyn. You’re always warm.”

Jyn took a shaking breath in. She closed her eyes and tried to think about what to say. She tried to think of things her parents had said, things Bodi would have said to her, or things she heard Chirrut whisper, she couldn’t make her tounge work though. She was shite at this and she hated herself for it so she just took another deep breath and pressed her hand to the door again.

“I’ll sit here with you all night, Cassian,” she said softly before she could think about it or change her mind. The silence after was heavy and dense and and not comfortable at all and she felt her chest tighten and her mind race but before she could say anything else and start to r, the light on the pin pad blinks green and the door unlocked.    

[melanoradrood]

WIP Wednesday

So this is from my Nanowrimo fic, which is the soulmates AU, which is a rewrite of Rogue One, more or less, with Cassian and Jyn as soulmates ( spoiler alert? ). Anyways, I’m pretty sure I have a title locked down, but I’m not going to start posting this fic on AO3 until I get probably another chapter done, just because the chapters are so meaty, BUT, take this little bit from the middle of Chapter 1. Chapter 1 covers Lah’Mu, Kafrene, and Wobani, btw...

Enjoy.

She pretends that her parents are here with them, her father writing away with what little light they have, her mother fixing the hole in Jyn’s leggings. She imagines her doll with her, and imagines that the rocks around her are actually sky, showing the stars.

She closes her eyes, and she tells herself the constellations, as if she can see them. She whispers them to herself, and pretends like someone, maybe even her soulmate, can hear her.

She’s so cold, so wet in this place. A storm has been brewing overhead, and despite the fact that she is within a cave, underground, the water runs, and it drips, drips onto her skin, onto her cot, onto her clothes. The longer she remains wet, the colder she gets, and she shivers, trying to hide under every blanket. The weather only gets worse, and the darkness never seems to stop.

Three days, three long days, and then, the hatch opens above her head. She recognizes the face immediately - he’s a friendly one, but she gives no response, save to climb up the ladder, her bag on her back. He does not look surprised to see that she is alone, and when she climbs out of the hole, they close the cover, although no one will be seeking shelter there again.

There’s a ship, with three big men with him, waiting at the mouth of the cave. They all look her over, tiny thing that she is, but she lifts her chin, raising herself up with all of the strength of her mother. Her mother never let anyone look down at her, and they give her a nod before she turns and looks at the one that came for her, Saw.

“They shot her,” she says, and there’s sadness in the man’s eyes. Pity, perhaps… or maybe understanding.

“And your father?”

She shakes her head - she doesn’t know the answer to that, not for fact, but she knows what she suspects. They wanted him - wanted his research, wanted his work. They would take him alive, if they could, and her father was not one to fight. He was likely still alive.

“How did you get away?” he asks, and her eyes go wide with surprise - she had done as told, had run when told, so how- “Your face, were you struck?”

She touches at her eye, where he gestures, then lets out another shake of her head. There’s no pain there, but she can imagine what it is - her soulmate. They must have gotten into another fight.

“My... “ She shows him her hands, where the knuckles are scraped and bruised. Saw gives her a nod, then sets a hand on her shoulder, leading her to the ship.

“My Papa… he’ll have a scar, where they shot her, won’t he?”

Saw is quiet for a long moment as they walk up the ramp, and he settles her into a seat in the back, sliding her bag under the chair. He then kneels in front of her, taking her hands in his.

“Most likely, yes. A mark where she was shot, to show the pain within his soul.”

“Will the mark hurt?” she asks, and it feels like a stupid question, but her father had reared back from what looked like pain when her mama was struck.

“The soul is what aches,” Saw answers wisely, as though he has known that pain, has felt that loss. “The wound is only a sign of the part of him that is now broken.”

Jyn nods, then looks down at her knuckles, scraped and marked.

“I never want to meet my soulmate. They make you do stupid things…”

She doesn’t want to think that her mama was stupid, not when she was so brave. Perhaps, if her mama had struck down the man in white, the troopers might have left her papa alone… but how could her mama think that she might fight against all of those fighters and lived? Her mama had fought for nothing, and now she was dead.

“My child… you will meet them one day, and you will only feel complete with them. It is a gift from the Force, one which you cannot fight… you are young, still, and we can talk on it later. Close your eyes and rest.”

She nods, sniffling a little, and Jyn realizes then that she’s crying, tears running down her cheeks. She was supposed to be brave, and here she was crying. Her hand runs under her eyes, brushing them away, and then her hand goes to her neck, to her mama’s necklace.

Her necklace, now.

Her eyes go towards the viewport, and as they take off from the planet, she can see in the distance that her house is now a ruins. There’s nothing left on Lah’mu, it seems. Nothing but ash, and dirt, and tears.

Her eyes close after a long moment, and she tries to wash it all away, to forget everything, to forget the past. She cannot change what has happened to her…

Ash… dirt… tears… and memories…

Dirt… sweat… tears…

Running… dripping…

Her eyes fly open, and for half a second, Jyn thinks she might be back in that cave, deep underground. Her next thought is that someone has come for her, and that this time, it’s not a friend. When she sits up, though, and realizes that the wetness on her skin is from the dripping ceiling, and that she’s no longer on Lah’mu…

Her hand reaches out to grab the rag she had left drying in the small space that is hers. It’s damp, but it’s better than letting whatever liquid drips from the floor above remain on her skin. Her eyes flick over towards her cellmate, still sleeping.

A guard walks by, but Jyn knows that it’s the middle of the night, and that it’s only memories, memories that haunt her, memories of a lifetime ago, of a girl that no longer exists. Her mama is long dead, her papa is long gone, and Saw had abandoned her, left her behind.

Everyone left her behind, everyone save for…

She looks down at her hand, sees a familiar bite on it, the bite from a blaster, used in close range, as a pistol. Sometimes, whoever her soulmate is, they grip the blaster too tight, the firing catching back on tender skin. There hasn’t been a mark in some time…

They recently shot someone. She tries to not concentrate on that too hard.

Her gaze goes out of the cell, and she tries to clear her mind. Her parents, Saw, her soulmate… none of them matter. All that matters is that she has been caught, captured by the Empire. They do not know her true name, but she knows that the name Erso means something to the empire.

If they find out her real name, find out who she really is…

A prison camp on Wobani will be the least of her worries.

For the first time in her life, Jyn is caught, trapped. There’s no way out, there’s no backup plan, no rescue crew. She’s alone. Entirely alone. And no one is coming to save her.

...

There’s a hunger deep within him, but it is not his own. Cassian has to ignore it as he moves through the busy crowd, glancing down at his hands, checking that his gloves are in place. It wouldn’t do for someone, a stormtrooper, to see the dark ring around his wrists. Granted, those marks were also not his own, but then they would ask for scandocs, and well… better to get in and out, without being spotted.

The stink in the air is nearly unbearable, but he’ll be off this piece of junk soon, heading back towards Base, or wherever the intel takes him. He hopes that Tivik is good on his word, because he keeps hitting dead ends. Jedha, though… Jedha is overrun with the presence of the Empire, and for no valid reason. Something is happening on Jedha. He just needs to find out what.

The smell of food makes him feel ill, and he knows he has eaten enough to sustain him recently, but it doesn’t help when he still feels hunger. His thoughts wander for a moment, where are they, that they’re so hungry, that they’re kept in shackles - no. No, he doesn’t have time for thoughts such as that. Things like soulmates… they have no place in a war. Those are for dreamers and fools. Nothing more.

His gaze flicks down the main street as Cassian reaches the alley where they agreed to meet, and he sees no troopers facing towards him - not that a man going down an alley is much concern, but he wants to be aware, wants to know if any are following him. He had been careful, as always, but… well, it was his job to be careful, to aware. He was good at what he did, the best, in fact.

You had to be the best, otherwise, you ended up dead.

The man is where he said he would be, and Cassian tries to put on an easy smile. There’s stress written on Tivik’s face, a sign that the intel, it has to be good. No one gets nervous sharing details about nothing.

His gaze goes back towards where he came from, and no eyes search him out. Stepping forward, he hopes that they will be out of the way… away from interruptions.

“I was about to leave,” Tivik says, and Cassian can only shrug, the grin tightening.

“I came as fast as I could.” And he had. He had had to dodge patrols to get there, but he had half run, when able. The news had to be good, the intel worth it - it was worth running there for. He pulls off his gloves, trying to get relaxed, to slow the man down, and he shoves them into his jacket pocket, out of the way. His wrists burn, but he ignores them.

[melyzard]

For the Made-up Fic titles game, how about "Working my way back to you"? Or "That was the river, this is the sea"?

That was the river, this is the sea:

Once upon a time, Jyn Erso understands love. She is eight, and love is Mama’s hands combing through her rain-wild hair and tucking the braids in neat with an extra pat to her cheek for being good. Love is cuddling up to Papa’s side and solving his little number puzzles in the picture-books full of gears and energy lines. Love is SE-2′s patient mechanized voice grinding out “Erso, Jyn. This unit requests that you experience a pleasant birthday celebration.” Love is her parents chasing her through the mud with bath towels and silly fake scowls, love is lumpy stew that makes Mama’s mouth turn down in disappointment but Papa kisses her hand and eats it anyway. Love is rain and grass and the quiet evenings with only whir of SE-2′s servos to break the silence of their thoughts. Love is soft and peaceful and vast as the empty fields, a thing that grows like a flower in her cupped hands. 

Once upon a time, Cassian Andor understands love. He is six, and love is Papa picking him up and throwing him into the air high, higher, even when he has been bent over his desk working hard all day. He has an uncle with the same name (’Big Cassian,’ they all call him, and Cassian is ‘little Cassian,’ or ‘the short Cassian’ or sometimes, ‘baby Cassian’), and love is when Uncle Cassian lets him climb up on the workbench and use his big tools to help rebuild all the droids that got smashed up by the Jedi. Love is his big brother calling him over to play fútbol with all his cousins, even though he is smallest and slowest and so, so clumsy. Love is Auntie Sophie making that strange sweet pie from her home planet and letting him eat a piece while Papa isn’t looking, and then dramatically claiming that some ghost must have crept into the house and stolen her pie when Papa starts to ask where it has gone. Love is loud and bright and bellowing like a crowd at a game match, a thing that wraps around his shoulders like a warm blanket against the winter chill.

Once upon a time, Jyn and Cassian understand love as any child does - simple and unquestionable, as permanent as the stars. 

It does not last, of course it cannot; they are children in the midst of a war, and war is not kind to children. Jyn’s flower is torn from the fields is sprouted, carried far away and nourished not with water but with blood. Cassian’s blanket burns with the rest of his home, and he replaces the riotous laughter with the steady whine of the blaster. Jyn learns that love can also be the rough hand of her commander throwing her over his hip and then demanding that she copy the motion back on him, over and over until she is covered in bruises but never likely to be grabbed from behind again. Cassian learns that love can be the brief notation on the bottom of his briefing report: Exercise Caution, written in the neat uncompromising hand of his taciturn superior. As they grow and suffer and survive anyway, their understanding of love grows and suffers and survives with them. Love is giving up a spot at the local shelter to a kid that looks even more starved than Jyn. Love is carrying a suicide pill next to his throat so that he can never be forced to betray the people who rely on him.

And then, at last, at long, long last, love is his warm arm around her waist when the crowds push in too close and raises all her hackles. Love is her truncheon in the eye of the bastard trying to capture him. Love is a new scarf draped carefully around her shoulders by cautious, gentle hands. Love is a thick pair of sturdy gloves shoved into his pocket without a word. Love is an argument about the best way to handle an objective, it is finding their way back to one another in a rioting city, it is teaching each other their favorite curses and their best fighting moves, it is laughing at the people who are convinced they would be amazing together if they would just stop being so professional all the time (and then sneaking a kiss when those people walk off irritated with their stubbornness). Love is in the wild, desperate moments when their lives and their cause all hang on the line and they cling to each other with desperation and wordless promises. Love is in the long stretches of boring grunt work where they have to remember to stop whatever paperwork they are caught up in to talk to one another for awhile. 

Once upon a time, Jyn and Cassian understand love as any person does - complex and demanding, and less a permanent fixture as it was a continuous cycle, sunrise rather than stars. 

It doesn’t last, of course, it cannot; nothing is immortal and all things must eventually flow back to the Force. 

But for Jyn and Cassian, at least, it lasts a long, long time.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

One Last Hope: Chapter 2

(Not My Gif)

One Last Hope Masterlist

AO3 Link/ Support Me on Ko-fi

A/N: PLEASE COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THIS! (Seriously I need to know if I should continue writing this or not)

Word Count: 4.7 K

           Sera leaned back in her seat as the ship continued its way through hyperspace. She could feel her eyes grow heavy as she watched the stream of star-lines blur past the cockpit window, but she didn’t dare close them.  Even with K-2SO in the co-pilot seat, Sera had learned her lesson about letting her guard down.  Their guest had remained quiet through most of the trip, but that hadn’t stopped Sera from having her blaster set to stun and within easy reach.

           Hopefully, when they got back to base, she’d be able to close her eyes for a few minutes. She hadn’t slept since she was first given her assignment.  

           Cassian Andor had finally come back from his mission, chasing smoke trails of a secret Imperial weapons project nobody in the alliance was even certain existed.  The only people who seemed to believe the rumors were Mon Mothma and General Draven.  Other low ranking officers, such as herself, had their own beliefs, but those in the high command were the only voices that mattered.

           But, Cassian had done it.  He had found the first real lead they had in months pointing to one devastating conclusion.

           The Empire was building a weapon; a planet killer.

           The moment the words had left his lips, the air had left the room.

           It didn’t feel real, but when Cassian continued to explain all scraps of data sewn together over the course of several months from sources throughout the galaxy, there was no doubt left in her mind.

           The planet killer was real, and they had to stop it. One way or another.  

           She took a breath and ran the facts over in her mind.

           Galen Erso.

           Imperial weapons designer.  The supposed leader of the project and possible ally.

           A pilot.

           Galen Erso had sent an Imperial cargo pilot with a message to Jedha in hopes of getting it to the Rebel Alliance.

           Saw Gerrera.

           Rebel extremist, labeled terrorist by the Empire, and by all accounts paranoid to the point of insanity. The pilot had been sent to find Saw Gerrera.

           Jyn Erso.

           Daughter of Galen Erso; smuggler, saboteur, rebel and possibly the key to all of it.

           Sera’s mission was a simple extraction.  Jyn Erso, otherwise known as Liana Hallick, had been imprisoned in the Wobani Labor Camp.  All Sera had to do was get her out without revealing the rebellion’s hand.  If the Empire dug too deep into who had escaped, they could discover what the rebellion was up to before they were ready.  

           Cassian had been against the mission from the start.  He was adamant they could get to Saw by other means that didn’t involve breaking the daughter of a known Imperial out of prison, but Mon Mothma herself stepped in to support it.  Jyn Erso was the best way to get to Saw’s men without bloodshed.  In addition, if the pilot had been sent by her father, it would be the easiest way to get him to cooperate.  They could then locate Galen Erso and bring him to the senate for trial.  

            Sera wasn’t exactly certain which part of the plan Cassian took issue with, but he had seemed to grow even more frustrated when her name had been added to the conversation.

           A beep came from the consul pulled her out of her thoughts and she eased the ship out of hyperspace, coming to stop in view of the giant red gas planet of Yavin, and the small jungle moon floating beside it.

             Home.

          She smiled at the sight before guiding to ship down towards the atmosphere.  

           “Base One, this is Lieutenant Sera Darros,” she said over the comm.  “Sending you confirmation code now.”

           She typed in the code and soon a familiar buzz came over the radio.

           “You’re approved for landing Lieutenant.  Report to dock seven and escort the prisoner to HQ.”

           Sera grimaced slightly at the word “prisoner”. She didn’t much like the idea of treating Jyn Erso as if she were a criminal.   From what she had read in the report, Jyn was a rebel just like the rest of them.  It didn’t seem right locking up their one of their own.  Of course, as Cassian constantly liked to remind her, just because you’re on the same side, doesn’t make you friends.

           She reached her hand tentatively to her cheek and prodded the skin, making herself wince.

           “That’s going to bruise,” K-2 said off handedly.  “Cassian isn’t going to like it.”

           Sera shot a glare at the droid, but it didn’t last.  He was right on both counts. She decided to ignore the comment all the same.

           “It’d probably be best you report to maintenance after we check in,” she said.  “I’ll take her in.”

           “That is a bad idea,” he said bluntly.  “The chance of her overpowering you and escaping is approximately 81.4%.  You’d better let me do it.”

           Sera rolled her eyes.  Yes, she was aware of the risks.   The state of her face was testament enough, but she also knew that Jyn would be more likely to attack Kay than her.  Besides, it was more than just getting her from point A to point B, it was about getting Jyn to trust them.  If Draven got his way than she, Kay, Cassian, and Jyn would be on the same mission together.  They would have to trust each other and that meant not treating her like an enemy.

           “I’ll be fine,” she assured.  “But if something does happen, you can give me a big “I told you so” speech later.”

           “Fine,” he said indignantly.  “It’s not like I am a security droid or anything.”

           Sera fought down a smile as they landed the ship.  He might have been complaining, but over the years, she had found it was his own roundabout way of showing that he cared.

           Sera unstrapped herself from her seat and slid down the ladder to the cargo bay while Kay did the last few checks.

           Jyn sat in one of the seats, finally glancing up when Sera landed on the ground.

           She offered Jyn a small smile, which was only met with a hardened gaze.  Sera knew she shouldn’t had been surprised, but she had hoped leaving Jyn unshackled would have lightened her mood a little.

           She let out a sigh and turned to her pack.  It was then she noticed that somebody had already shuffled through it.

           She shook her head.  She wondered how disappointed Jyn had been when she had discovered there was no weapon to be found.  She did a quick check to make sure nothing was missing before zipping it up and swinging it over her shoulder.

           “Alright, let’s go,” she said, turning to Jyn.

           To her slight surprise, she finally got a reaction as Jyn raised an eyebrow.

           “You really aren’t going to restrain me,” she asked.

           Sera shrugged.

           “I’ll have my blaster on you the whole time, if that makes you feel better.”

           Jyn watched her a moment and Sera could see the plan starting to form in the woman’s mind.  She knew well enough that, if she wanted, Jyn could easily over power her.  She could trip her on the tarmac when she wasn’t paying attention, wrestle the blaster away from her, use her as a human shield and make her way into the jungle.

           Jyn could do it, but then what would be the plan afterwards? Dump Sera somewhere deep within the trees? Wait for dark in hopes of stealing a ship? Or more likely, try to survive off of unknown plants on an unknown moon until she found an outpost she wasn’t even certain was there.

           Apparently, Jyn had reached the same conclusion. Her eyes narrowed, and she rose from her seat.

           Sera offered a small smile and pressed one of the buttons along the side of the ship, opening the cargo doors.  She lifted the blaster lazily and pointed to the exit.  

           “After you.”

           They were met by the familiar humidity of the jungle air, perfectly mixed with smell of local flora and the damp musk of rotting of leaves.  Sera could already feel the sweat starting to form on her brow, but she paid it no mind.  Over the years she had lived on several rebellion bases, but Yavin Four was the first one which felt like a proper home. Something about the ancient ziggurat rising out of the forest, as if it belonged to the landscape itself, made it feel real compared to the tents and ships of past settlements. It was immovable, solid, and she loved it.  

           “How’s the face?” Jyn asked casually.

           Sera looked at the woman and felt a wry smile spread across her face.  She knew Jyn meant it as a jab but decided not to take the bait.  She didn’t begrudge her for the hit.  She probably would had done the same, given the circumstances.  It was her own mistake for turning her back.  But, in her own defense, she had had other things on her mind.

           “Definitely stings,” she said honestly.  “I feel like I should thank you for not getting my nose.”

           Jyn shrugged.  

           “Bad aim.”

           Sera raised an eyebrow before letting out a small laugh and shaking her head.

           “Guess I’m just lucky.”

           She wasn’t sure if she was seeing things, but she thought she caught a small smile on the corner of Jyn’s lips.

            “Could be.”

           They kept silent the rest of the way as Sera guided them through the hangers and down to one of the bunkers.

           If Jyn was surprised as to where Sera was taking her, she didn’t show it.

           The door to the war room slid open, and they each walked inside.

           Sera recognized General Draven standing at attention in the center of the room, as well as several other high-ranking officers scattered around the space.  All of them were watching them both closely as they entered.

           Draven paid her little mind as his eyes focused in on Jyn. He glanced down to her wrist and quickly took notice at the lack of binders.  His jaw tightened slightly, but he kept his face neutral and made no comment.

           Sera took it as a good thing.  She knew Draven wasn’t overly fond of her, but he had seen she’d gotten the job done.  At the end of the day, that was all that mattered to him.

           Her eyes, then went to the side of the room where Cassian Andor stood casually in the shadows.

           He too kept his eyes on Jyn and gave an odd look when he saw she wasn’t restrained.  He then turned his gaze to Sera, but, instead of militant neutrality, she was met with surprised amusement.   It only lasted a second before he gave her a quick once over, scanning for injuries.  For a brief moment, she thought she was in the clear, until his eyes settled briefly on her face, specifically her cheek. He frowned slightly, his expression shifting to concern.

           Sera winced. She was in for it now.  She could practically hear the lecture already forming in his mind as Jyn took a seat across the table.  At the very least she had time to think of a good lie before they spoke.  Something that didn’t involve losing her nerve or turning her back. More importantly, something that didn’t put Jyn on Cassian’s bad side.

           “Lieutenant Darros,” Draven said, cutting into her thoughts, “you are dismissed.  Report to your station and wait for further orders.”

           “Sir,” she said with a salute.

           She gave Jyn once last glance, offering a small smile before meeting Cassian’s eyes once more.

           His expression had shifted again, this time into the unreadable mask of Captain Andor, intelligence officer for the rebel alliance.

           He gave her a small nod, which she returned before turning on her heel and leaving.

           There was no doubt in her mind.  She was definitely in for a lecture.

            Jyn kept her eyes forward as she made her way across the tarmac with Captain Andor.   She was trying her best not to think about what she had just signed up for.  The names and faces of people she had told herself to forget came streaming back into her memory. She pushed them down.

          She just needed to focus on the end result.  Once it was all over, she could go back to her old life.  She could disappear and pretend she had never heard of the Rebel Alliance or Saw Gerrera or Galen Erso.

           Galen Erso.

           She clenched her teeth as the name and the face fifteen years out of date echoed in her mind.

           Just don’t think about it.

           “Captain Andor!” a voice called.

           Both she and Cassian stopped mid-stride to find the source of the call.

           Jyn immediately spotted the red haired general from the bunker, and felt her lip tighten.

           “General Draven,” Cassian said. “Give me a moment.”

           Jyn simply nodded before Cassian dashed ahead to the boarding ramp of a battered U-Wing, unslung the duffel he carried over his shoulder, and hurried back in Draven’s direction.

           Jyn continued onward towards the ship.  It certainly wasn’t a looker, but then again, no U-Wing she had ever encountered was.  She liked to think they just came out of the factory that way; dented hull, worn seats, odd smell and all.

           She looked up the boarding ramp to the main cabin as she dropped her things.

           Towering above the communications console stood the security droid that had captured her on Wobani.  She couldn’t be bothered to remember what the lieutenant had called him.

           “I’m Kay-tuesso,” he said, in a polite tone that only made her feel threatened.

           Jyn didn’t respond, instead busying herself with her bag for no other reason than to give her mind and hands something to do.

            “I’m a reprogrammed Imperial droid.”

           “I remember you,” she said.

           “I see the counsel is sending you with us to Jedha.”

           “Apparently so.”

           “That is a bad idea.  I think so, and so does Cassian.”

           Jyn’s brow furrowed as she looked back to Cassian speaking with Draven.  They were huddled together close, making sure to go unheard by stray pilots and technicians. She felt her back stiffen in unease, but turned away all the same.  She would have to keep her eye on Captain Andor, even more than she was planning to.

            “What do I know?” the droid continued sardonically. “My specialty is just strategic analysis.”

           “C’mon Kay, don’t be rude,” a voice said from beside her.

           Jyn spun around, surprised to see Sera Darros had joined them with a sack slung over her shoulder.  Her surprised quickly turned into a frown as Jyn took a moment to properly examine the girl.

           Her red hair was done up in a ponytail now, making her look significantly closer to the seventeen Jyn had finally settled as her age.  Her nose was small and sharp with whispers of freckles hidden under weather and sun worn skin. The bruise Jyn had given her stood more prominently on her face, but it did little to deter the girl’s easy smile from reaching her wide eyes.

           Jyn was left with the impression of a battered doll which had accidentally been left in the dirt years ago, and whose owner still mourned its loss. She might had let her guard down, if it weren’t certain the girl had a compact blaster tucked neatly behind her back.

           “You’re joining us,” Jyn asked suspiciously.

           The girl’s expression fell as if hurt by her statement, but it only lasted a moment before she was once again all smiles.

           “Well, I hope so, otherwise I brought this along for nothing.”

           Sera brushed past her and started to move around the cabin, putting away her things, and making last minute checks on supplies.

           Jyn watched the girl carefully as she made her way through the ship and took satisfaction in seeing the outline of a blaster hidden in the girl’s pants. Sera moved with the fluidity of habit and Jyn caught herself wondering just how many times the teenager had done this.

           She had had time to run through the plan Lieutenant Darros had concocted a few times over in her mind on the way from Wobani.

           It wasn’t a bad plan, but it had all the hallmarks of a rebellion operation; quick, blunt, and meant to confuse rather than destroy.  The death of Stormtroopers at the hands of inmates was a side effect, not a feature.  Add the fact she clearly hadn’t been prepared for the troopers in the hallway and defector from the Imperial academy was no longer an option.

           The more likely scenario was she was like Jyn, lost at a young age and saved by the rebellion only to be used as another tool in their war.

           Jyn felt a sudden stab of pity for the girl as she saw her whole past in front of her.  A dead parent, maybe a sibling.   Spending more than one night huddled in an alleyway as Stormtroopers marched past.  Hiding in the dark.

           Hiding in a cave.

             Letting the tears stream down her face as she clung to a light in a small hatch until it opened and—.

           Jyn snapped herself out of the memory before it could go any further.

           Sera Darros was by no means the first to be used.  She wouldn’t be the last.

           Jyn shook her head, deciding to take a moment to examine the contents of Cassian’s bag.  Nothing but gear; weapons, portable medpacs, signal boosters and the like.  No holos of loved ones.  No trinkets or lucky charms. It was light, efficient and impersonal.

           She pulled out a blaster pistol, weighing it in her hand, before strapping it on her hip.  Unfortunately, her movements did not go unseen.

           “He’ll notice it’s missing,” Sera said.

           Jyn looked up to see the girl standing over her.

          She didn’t say anything waiting for the girl to try and take the blaster away from her, or yell to Cassian, but she did neither. Instead, she went to her own bag, riffled through, and pulled out her own blaster.  She turned back to Jyn and held it out to her.

           “Here.”

           Jyn didn’t say anything, glancing between the weapon and the girl holding it in confusion.

          How the hell had this girl lasted so long? She was starting to doubt her theory of the child soldier if she trusted this easily.  But, just like when she had offered her a hand, Sera kept steady.

           After a moment, Jyn put away Cassian’s weapon and took the blaster.  She wasn’t going to turn down having a weapon, but there was more to it. To her surprise, she found she was starting to trust Sera.  She certainly still had a lot to learn, but all her actions came from an earnest place. Jyn wondered just how much longer it would last.

           Sera gave her a small nod and continued with her tasks.  Not a moment later, Cassian came back to the U-Wing.

           “You met Kay-Tu?” he asked.

           “Charming,” Jyn said.

           Cassian gave an innocent “what are you going to do” shrug.

            “He tends to say whatever comes into his circuits.  It’s a by-product on the reprogram.”

           “Why does she get a blaster and I don’t,” the droid interjected.

           Cassian paused, and the easy-going nature of his expression faded as he turned to Jyn.  

           “What?”

           “I know how to use it,” Jyn said casually.

           “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he countered.

           All warmth was now gone and only the soldier Jyn had met in the bunker remained.  

           “Give it to me,” he said.

           Jyn shifted into a defensive stance and opened her mouth to speak but was quickly cut off.

           “I gave it to her,” Sera said.

           Cassian turned to her with a look of disbelief.

           To her credit, Sera stood firm, straightening her stance as she met Cassian’s gaze.

           It all felt rather familiar to Jyn as her eyes darted between the two of them.  She had noticed a similar exchange of looks in the bunker, but had given it little thought at the time, being more preoccupied by General Draven staring her down.  As she saw it now, she recognized it as a one between a father and daughter or an older brother to a younger sister.  One all naïve trust and the other trying desperately to make them to understand.

           Cassian’s expression shifted once more, his eyes hardening and his back straightening to attention.

           “That’s not your call,” he said sternly.

           Sera looked like she wanted to argue, but quickly realized there was no point.  She would only be talking back to her superior officer. Her shoulders slumped, and a detected look took over her features.

           Jyn watched the whole thing and felt a sudden swell protectiveness towards the girl.

           “We’re going to Jedha,” Jyn said sharply, “that’s a war zone.”

           Cassian turned his attention back to her, his jaw tightening, but Jyn’s resolve only grew.

           “Trust goes both ways.”

           His look didn’t soften, but she could tell she had won the argument.

           He once again, turned his eyes to Sera.

           Jyn could catch the girl trying to hide a smile as she gave him a small shrug.  Some of the tension in Cassian’s shoulders deflated, before giving Sera a pointed look which telegraphed very simply the discussion wasn’t over.

           Jyn fought the urge to laugh.

           Brother and sister, she settled. Definitely brother and sister.

            “You’re letting her keep it?” K-2 asked.

           Cassian didn’t answer as he slipped into the pilot’s seat.  He kept his attention on the consul, refamiliarizing himself with the controls.  It had been a while since he been behind the controls of a U-Wing.

           “Would you like to know the probability of her using it against you?”

           From his own experience he knew there was little he could do to silence the droid, but he shot Kay a glare all the same.  It didn’t work.

           “It’s high,” Kay warned.    

            “Let’s go.”

           “It’s very high.”

           Cassian tried to ignore the truth behind the droid’s words as he guided the ship over the canopy and up through the atmosphere.  It wasn’t until the view from the cockpit turned to star lines did he finally allowed himself a moment to think.

           His conversation with Draven on the tarmac came back to him, as well as the final orders which were now etched into his mind.

             Galen Erso is vital to the Empire’s weapons program.   There will be no extraction. You find him, you kill him. Then and there.

           The order did not bother Cassian. It wouldn’t be the first time he had been asked to kill for the sake of the rebellion and he knew it wouldn’t be the last.

           Draven was not wrong in wanting Galen Erso dead.  After years living under the Empire’s influence, Galen’s efforts had cost countless lives and if he continued, would cost countless more.  Killing him was not only the practical thing to do, it was the right thing to do.

           Cassian was certain of this, but, all the same, he felt troubled. His mind then went to the woman sitting in the cabin behind him.

           Jyn Erso.

           There was something about her, something in her eyes which frightened Cassian. A fiery need he was certain would burn him if he stared too long.

           Had he imagined it? A part of him thought he had, given Sera’s willingness to put a blaster in the woman’s hands.  Then again, he was fairly certain Sera would trust a rancor not to bite her if it asked her nicely enough.

           He let out a small sigh and pulled off his headset before slipping out of the pilot seat.

           Sera was sitting across from the communications console with her head against the wall, and her eyes drooping with sleep.  She straightened a little as he stepped down and offered him a soft smile.  

           Despite the circumstances, Cassian felt himself return the look.

           “I’m pretty sure she’s knocked out,” she commented, nodding to the cabin.  “Can’t really blame her.”

           Cassian turned his attention in that direction.

           Jyn was in one of the seats against the wall. Her eyes closed, and her head rolled to the side.  A part of him was grateful.   He wasn’t sure if he was up to having to meet that need again so soon.

           “I suppose not,” he said, before looking back to Sera.  “Are you going to tell me what happened to your face?”

           “Depends, are you going to tell me what Draven said to you?”

           Cassian stiffened slightly, but he let it go.  It wasn’t a challenge on her part.  He knew she trusted him more than anybody.  She understood if it was important for her to know, he would tell her, and, in this instance, she didn’t.

           “It’s nothing you need to worry about,” he said easily.  

           Sera watched him a moment but seemed satisfied with his answer and nodded her head.

            “Now what happened?” he continued.

           She shrugged.

           “Nothing bad. Bucket-head just got a lucky shot.”

           “That’s a lie,” K-2 chimed in.  “Jyn hit her across the face with a helmet after Sera turned her back.”

           She shot the droid a betrayed look, but Cassian ignored it.  

           “Damn it Sera,” he cursed.  “What have I told you about being careful?”

           “I was,” she defended. “I just…I got distracted.”

           “Distracted?”

           “Checking on the Stormtroopers,” Kay offered.  “I don’t see why though.  They were assuredly dead before they hit the ground.”

           Sera didn’t say anything.  She turned away, looking straight forward trying to cover the sudden distant look in her eyes.

           The initial frustration Cassian had felt slowly dissipated, only to be replaced by guilt.  

           She still wasn’t used to killing.  A part of him was grateful for that and hoped she never would, but another part of him, the rebel, the spy, the solider, needed her to grow up.

           He breathed out a sigh.

           “You never turn your back on a prisoner,” he said calmly. “Do you understand? She could have shot you.”

           “But she didn’t,” Sera countered. “Give me some credit, I wouldn’t have turned my back if I thought she was going to kill me.”

           “So, what? You trust her?”

           “Enough to get us to Saw.”

           Cassian stared at her a moment and shook his head.

           He wondered if Sera would feel the same way if he told her what he had been ordered to do. But, he pushed the thought away, deciding instead to focus on the immediate present.

           “When’s the last time you slept?” he asked off handedly.  

           Sera gave the moment a brief thought, before shrugging.

           “Before I left.”

           Cassian nodded his head and made his way to the cabin.   As quietly as he could, he pulled out one of the spare blankets from one of the survival packs and walked back over to Sera, handing it to her.

           She took it gratefully and wrapped herself into a tight cocoon before laying her head against the wall.

           “Wake me when we get to Jedha?” she asked gently.

           Cassian felt the urge to laugh, but instead settled on a small smile.

           “Just close your eyes.”

           She must had been more exhausted than he thought as all she did was nod her head before drifting off.

           Cassian stood there a moment, his heart tightening at the sight.

           His mind took him far away, back when he was just a teenager himself.

           Sera was sitting in the co-pilot seat of a stolen freighter.  Only eight years old, wrapped in a blanket, her small head resting on Cassian’s rolled up jacket.

           He snapped himself back into the present and tucked the memory away.

           She didn’t need to know about his mission to kill Galen Erso.  He might not be able to protect her from most things in the universe, but he could spare her that.

           His eyes then turned to the other woman asleep in the cabin and he could feel his jaw tighten.

           He’d also spare her the wrath of Jyn Erso for a little while longer.  He knew what was coming for him if Jyn ever learned the truth.  Sera didn’t need to get caught in the crossfire.  

           Turning his heel, he made his way back to the cockpit and settled himself into his seat.

           It was a long way to Jedha

[jynandor]

What are your favourite Jyn/Cassian fics ?

Okay, so at first i tried to get this as short as possible? But i’ve read so many amazing fics these last 7 months, i couldn’t leave anything out. I added exactly 60 fics here (and i am pretty sure i forgot to put some i also loved). I’ve rec-ed several fics back in january too, you should also check them out (x) …sadly some of those WIP fics aren’t finished yet.

Anyway, i sorted these fics by rating: 

NOT-RATED:

1. floating, sinking (by @shu-of-the-wind) 

Somewhere in her is the sinking feeling that they weren’t supposed to survive.

[Jyn’s not entirely sure how they lived. She just knows that they did. She’s not sure how the Rebellion lost the plans, either, but she has half a plan to fix that. Maybe. Mon Mothma has other ideas.]

[Post-Rogue One. Runs through A New Hope. Eventual Rebelcaptain.]

2. the violet hour (by @mellamymake) - modern AU

Jyn can’t sleep. Thankfully, it sounds like her neighbour can’t, either.

Or, the one where Jyn gets a new neighbour — one who turns out to be rather musically inclined.

3. slowly, and then all at once (by @mellamymake) - modern AU

It’s probably sheer stubbornness, Cassian thinks wryly. Even so, it doesn’t mean he’s just going to leave her like that.

Or, the one where Jyn has a habit of falling asleep around the apartment, and Cassian develops a habit of carrying her back to bed, because he’s a Gentleman, and a Good Friend.

4. run to me in the rising dawn (by @leralynne)

Jyn has never had anyone stick around before. The battle is over now, but the war rages on and Jyn is already preparing for the day when she loses Cassian, too. (She doesn’t realize he’s terrified of the exact same thing.)

5. lay down my shields (by @leralynne​)

Jyn comes down with a strange reaction to a foreign plant, but it doesn’t seem like a big enough deal to bother anyone with. That is, until she faints in the middle of the hallway.

6. closer (by muggleindenial28) - slight adult themes

“They don’t speak on the way down.They don’t acknowledge the distant shrill screams of TIE Fighters and X-Wings outside.They don’t think about how they’re not going to get out in time.”

They make it off Scarif, but not without scars.

RATED G:

7. if only (by @ohstardustgirl)

A fix-it: “If Only”, as in “If only Krennic had never went to the data tower, how different things could have been.”

How Cassian and Jyn would have survived Scarif, and what would have happened after.

8. places we break and bend (by @incognitajones)

In which Jyn is injured, and frustrated that dealing with her hair one-handed is impossible.

9. until the dust settles (by @jynersoandor)

Here were the facts. One, Jyn expected to die on Scarif. Two, that had allowed her to be more open with Cassian than she normally would have been. Three, that against all odds she had not died. Four, that currently she was lying in a rebel base medical room. Five, that if she had lived, then maybe Cassian did too. Six, since they were both alive, that now she had to face their changing relationship and all that came with it. Now it was beyond a tragic tale of what could have been, and was what could be, and that scared the hell out of her.

10. long odds (by mosylu)

When Jyn and Cassian notice that they seem to be getting an awful lot of attention from the other rebels lately, they check in with Bodhi to see what he knows about it.

11. with difficulty and grief (by @ladytharen)

“I’m fine,” he murmurs as she curls up next to him in the ship’s bunk. They are well on their way home and he’s patched up as best he can be, but the sight of him going down under three blaster shots burns brightly in her memory. She’d been shot once, getting to him, and they are both littered with bruises and small injuries.

(But they are both alive.)

“I know,” she says, curling her arm around his chest, and it’s mostly true.

12. the ghosts that survive (by @anghraine)

Love doesn’t cure Jyn’s and Cassian’s many problems. But it helps.

13. use the sleeves of my sweater, lets have an adventure (by @jynersq)

Back in the engine room, he goes to her, more confidently this time. But still carefully, as though she’s a wounded animal. Holding the jacket in his hands. Kneeling beside her, Cassian draws the material, dry and worn-soft, around Jyn’s shoulders like a blanket.

(Or, five times Jyn Erso wore Cassian Andor’s clothing, and one time she didn’t.)

14. when we were young and crossed the stars (by @leralynne)

He tells her he’s been given his own ship, his choice of his own crew. When she asks who he’ll be picking, he cocks his head at her.

“You and K, of course,” he says, like he can’t believe she’s even asking the question when she’s been griping about it for almost six years.

Jyn and Cassian meet as children caught up in the rebellion and grow up together.

15. the forces of others (by @ofhobbitsandwomen)

Everything’s going according to plan on Jedha, until Jyn spots a strange man watching them. She makes a split second decision on how to subvert suspicion.

16. it’s tempting (by @vaultfox)

Cassian’s gone to work with a myriad of ailments before, but maybe that’s because he’s never had the luxury of someone holding him back

RATED T:

17. nothing but water  (by @operaticspacetrash)

Jyn and Cassian find a moment of quiet together, as well as a working shower with real warm water.

18. the kiss on your lips, it should be mine (by @incognitajones)

In which Jyn can’t concentrate.

19. a single heartbeat between your two (by @ladytharen)

He steps closer to Jyn, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.

(As always, there was nowhere else to go.)

“Hi,” he says softly, and the voices outside key in the code. Her eyes flick up to meet his and a smile plays at her lips. “Hi,” she echoes.

When he kisses her this time, he kisses her like it’s the last chance he’ll ever get. His hands wrap around her waist and she slides herself against him, her hands steady and warm on his chest. Her fingers curl in anticipation as he kisses her openly, as intently and with as much emotion as he can convey.

(For a brief instant, he thinks she is trying to tell him something too.)

 20. a proud, upleasant sort of man (by angel_deux)

It takes Cassian Andor and Han Solo an embarrassingly long time to realize that they aren’t each other’s rivals.

21. kindred (by simplyprologue)

“I left the next-of-kin space blank on my enlistment form,” she whispers, taking the datapad from his loose grip, logging in with her own restricted access codes. Draws up her contact forms, and gives it to him to place his name.

“I’d like that.”

He brings up his own next.

22. hold back the river (by alemantele)

Jyn and Cassian, meeting through a series of unfortunate lives

(and maybe just one happy ending)

23.  comfort me with apples (by miraphora)

The problem was that these covers required a certain level of…performative public affection. And there was nothing professional about the way he felt around Jyn Erso.

24. magnetic pull (by accidentalrambler)

Jyn loves playing with Cassian’s hair.

25.  only fools rush in (by @andromeda3116) - modern AU

“Jyn talked herself into a corner with her grandma,” Han explained. “Now she needs a fake boyfriend for Christmas.”

“Why doesn’t Cassian do it?” Luke asked, and Jyn scowled at him.

[In which Jyn, in an attempt to get her mother’s overbearing, gossipy, and traditional family off her back for one freaking Christmas, conscripts Cassian to join her as her (fake) boyfriend for the whole week in England. Shamelessly, wildly, gleefully AU.]

26. one night and one more time (by @baenakinskywalker) - modern AU

I found you a date,” Bodhi says with all the nonchalantness of her super dropping by to ask about rent. Jyn nearly drops the wine bottle on the ground. “Y’know,” he adds, noticing her deer in the headlights look, “for the reunion.”

or, Jyn is a little more than reluctant to go to her high school reunion until Bodhi finds her a total stranger to go with.

27. we hold on so tight (by @clarkescrusade) - modern AU

AP Literature teacher Jyn Erso and AP World History teacher Cassian Andor are natural rivals, have been since the day Jyn arrived a year ago. Between bickering, they mostly just try to hide the fact that they care about each other. It can get pretty complicated.

Or, a rival!teachers au feat. Jyn and Cassian

28. i was made to need you (by @leralynne)

Three times Cassian and Jyn couldn’t keep their hands off each other, and one time they could but chose not to.

29.   semantics (series, by @leralynne)

      AKA lots of bed-sharing

30. we’ve been here before  (by angel_deux) - character death (groundhog day AU)

She dies on the beach, in his arms. It isn’t the first time. It isn’t even the second. “We’re trapped,” she tells him, blood bubbling up between her lips. His fingers spasm on her wound and he shushes her, his voice shaking. She draws a shuddering breath that rattles in her lungs. “It’s my turn, but it’ll be yours, next. We’re trapped here.”

Or: Jyn has to keep reliving Scarif until she gets it right.

31. a memory lifted from her lips (by @ladytharen)

“Jyn,” he murmurs, his voice a bare whisper as he tilts closer. In a heartbeat, she answers the only way she knows how. Her arms slide around him, closing the space between them, and tentatively, hesitantly, she brushes her lips against his, uncertainty falling away. They only had moments left.

(Welcome home.)

He sighs in a heavy exhale over her and her eyes slide shut as he presses into the kiss, a sweet memory forming for the rest of her life. His arms circle her, weakened but not dismayed, and she tilts her face up to lengthen the kiss. His lips part under hers as she steps closer, a kiss drawn out to a lifetime.

32. before I wake, before the dawn (by redfantasyfox) - slight adult themes

Or: The Four Times Jyn Climbs Into Cassian’s Bed and the One Time He Sure As Hell Climbs Into Hers.

33. if love is the answer (could you rephrase the question) (by @rain-sleet-snow)

Jyn hasn’t admitted that she really cares about anything or anyone since Saw Guerrera, and look where that got her: alone at sixteen with a blaster and a knife and a broken heart. She likes to think she’s better now, smarter and stronger, but really, she hasn’t got any further than that frightened girl in a bunker by herself with shattered beliefs at her feet.

***

They kissed for the sake of the mission, and Jyn desperately wants to do something about it.

34. acts of intimacy (series, by @rxbxlcaptain) 

series of one-shots, non-sexual acts of intimacy 

35. too close, not close enough (by ivyspinners)

In which they kissed for the sake of the mission, and Jyn can’t stop thinking about it.

36. falling like a feather, soft and light (by @incognitajones)

In which Jyn is convinced that she’s hallucinating due to hypothermia. How else could she be safe and warm in Cassian’s arms?

37. what is decayed in you shall be made clean (by imgoingtocrash)

“There’s no need to return this favor for him, but there is a want: To show him she’s capable of this trust, this care, this softness she’s rarely known.

He turns to her, this quirk to his lip that she only sees when they’re teasing and he can’t seem to hold back some sort of reaction to her. It peeks through his layers of careful movements and disguise and personality construction and cuts to his core, to the person he might be in a world without need of a Rebellion.”

Injured and tired, Cassian and Jyn share a shower and take turns caring for each other.

38. this here now (it’s where we touch down) (by mosylu)

With the war over, Jyn knows their time serving the Rebellion-turned-New-Republic is over, too. It’s time to move on and do something for themselves.She’s not too sure about this farming gig. But as long as Cassian’s there, she’s there.

39. my words on your lips (by @yavemiel)

Jyn wants to surprise Cassian for his birthday.

40. for you (by @kyberchronicles)

But who could’ve known?, Jyn wondered. She hadn’t mentioned it, let alone celebrated it, since Saw pulled her up out of her secret hideout on Lah’mu. She hadn’t even remembered it that morning until she glanced at the date on the datapad she kept by her bed.

41. clothes (by @jeeno2)

Jyn shows up to breakfast wearing Cassian’s clothes. Cassian’s the only one who’s surprised.

RATED M:

42. a bad idea (by @moonprincess92nz) - modern AU

“Ok, this is bloody ridiculous,” Jyn finished her drink, before slamming it down onto the coffee table in front of them. “Let’s just have sex.”

Cassian choked on his beer.

43. pain my spirit gold (by spacenarwal)

On the books Captain Cassian Andor and Sergeant Jyn Erso have officially shared quarters for over four months, but Jyn thinks she can probably count on both hands the number of nights they’ve actually spent there together. The Rebellion’s war keeps them both away, sometimes together, but more often than not apart. It feels like a luxury to come back and find him there, sitting on the bunk, legs crossed beneath him in a way that makes him look unusually young, dark hair falling into his eyes as he fiddles with a gutted datapad on his lap.

“You’re back.” She says, dropping her things on the floor by the door, next to his own duffle, dusty and cracked from sun exposure. She doesn’t know where they sent him but she hopes wherever it was he was at least warm.

44. kiss me (like you want to be loved) (by @jynersq)

Jyn settles back on her heels, and doesn’t look back over her shoulder as she walks toward the ship.

If she had, she’d have seen Cassian staring after her in something like bewilderment, his hand drifting up to the place where her lips had been.

(Or, five times Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor kissed.)

45. five things cassian andor only says at night (by @jeeno2)

So no one will hear him.

RATED E:

46. cast some light ‘verse (series, by @brynnmclean)

loosely connected, standalone rebelcaptain fics. 

47. i fought the war (but the war won) (by @incognitajones)

They meet on a battleground, of course.

48. hiding and revealing  (by @incognitajones)

In which Cassian figures the odds of him getting punched in the face are about 50-50.

49. need is always pending on how much you can get (by @incognitajones)

In which Jyn is determined to make Cassian say what he wants.

50. kill the lights and kiss my eyes (by @ohstardustgirl)

Jyn and Cassian’s first mission alone together doesn’t quite go to plan, and stranded on a planet there is nowhere to hide from each other.

She wants to chase the raindrops with her tongue, follow them down below his shirt.

51. opening (by @ohstardustgirl)

Jyn thinks about how much trust it takes to sleep with someone, and how much trust it takes to sleep with someone.Jyn and Cassian have their first time.

52. trading favours (by @mellamymake) - modern AU

“Come on,” she wheedles. “I’ll do the laundry for two weeks. I’ll pay for beer the next time we go out.” She waves her hands in the air, momentarily flailing around for more ideas. “I’ll go down on you.”

Cassian looks up then. “You’re not going to go down on me.”

She snorts on sheer impulse. “You underestimate the depths of my desperation.”

53. a good thing (by @operaticspacetrash) 

After weeks apart, Jyn takes a transport to be reunited with Cassian for a special kind of reunion.Based on two prompts: “Reunited after too long apart” and “He knew they had to be quiet.”

54. behind closed doors, your hands in mine (by @leralynne)

It keeps happening—his hands on her body, his lips on her skin. It’s strange, and rather wonderful, but they never talk about it. Jyn kind of wishes they would.

55. holding a heart here in my hand (by @leralynne)

Jyn kisses Cassian for the first time when she thinks they’re about to die. But then, they don’t die.

56. it’s really good (to hear your voice) (by cooper_nails)

The private comm link is a gift that Cassian doesn’t admit to giving.

57. in these hallowed spaces (by bittersnake)

She’s bruised, battered, and scarred but not broken.

58. just a taste (by miraphora) 

“I didn’t think this was what you had in mind when you said we had time to kill.”

59. to have a fraction of your life (by @ladytharen)

“Does it hurt?’ he asks and she shrugs, rolling her shoulders to test herself.

“I’ve had worse,” she says. Her voice is becoming a distant and faraway thing as Cassian’s breath travels across her skin, taking in the truth of her words. Marks from Wobani, marks from her time with Saw’s partisans, and all the ones in between.

She leans forward on the tips of her fingers, letting Cassian inspect her. At first, his touch is light and studious.

A moment later, it’s not.

60. just put your sweet lips on mine (by @ladytharen)

In the dark, she pulls a fresh shirt on from the drawer by the bed and crawls into the cot. Tugging the blanket around herself, she breathes deeply and smiles to herself.

It smells like Cassian.

Her last thought before she slides into sleep is to wonder whether he’s been sleeping in her bed while she was gone.

(She likes the thought.)

[just-4-thrill]

Gheminus

fandom: starwars

word count: 968

characters: Staub Erso-Andor (adult son of Jyn and Cassian)

warnings: cussing

summary:  A bored and salty Staub Erso-Andor is sent to destroy an old Empire base prior to TFA. What he finds there changes everything

author’s note: AU where Jyn and Cassian have a son who grows up to join the rebellion during it’s glory days before the rise of the Order. 

Fuck, Staub Erso-Andor hated being sent on little errands like this one. It peeved him to no end to feel no one trusted him with a good fucking mission. He wanted something big … like his parents, something that mattered. He kicked his feet up on the old rebellion x-wing and pulled out a handful of crader berries from the Paulat system. Shoving them carelessly into his mouth he chewed, while trying to readjust so his legs didn’t feel so cramped.

 “I guess there is nothing left in the galaxy to fight.” He said more to himself, but AB-37 responded.

“Beep, boop, bid, boop.”

 “Yeah, yeah, I know. I just wish they would have left some of the fun for me.”

 “Bip.” AB-37 stated plainly and Staub went back to stretching.

They were almost there. So, he pulled his body back into the chair and popped his knuckles before grabbing the joysticks.

 “Hang on, AB-37. We are almost there.”

The planet was Gheminus and it was as shitty of a planet as he’d ever seen. Dull grey dust seemed to cover everything, choking out the life of all but this gross brown, wormlike algae. He hoped it wasn’t cold…knowing his luck though. His eyes rolled as he located the small outpost – just a single building almost the size of a house.

“I can’t believe I have been sent all the way out here to blow this shit up.”

 “Beep bip.” AB-37 replied.

 “Yeah yeah I know, recon first.”

 He landed the x-wing onto a small landing strip near the house, which now seemed a little larger up close…but not much. He shut down the engine and immeditately was met with the chill of this dull forsaken planet. Yup…figures. She grabbed his fur-lined jacket from the bin behind him and zipped up – already able to see his breath in the fog of the windows.

“Wait here.” He commanded AB-37.

 “Beep boop.”

Staub popped the door to the x-wing and cursed as the freezing air hit his face.

“Fucking resistance, eh.” He shook his head and hopped out of the ship.

His boots hit the dust-covered algae with a squish, and he cringed against the sensation. Sturdy little fuckers. He thought, wondering why anything ever would decide to take residence here.

As he trekked towards the house, he noticed a light flicker off outside, which made him cock his head…and his blaster.  Squatting down, he circled the house, which took all of five minutes. It was rather small. There was only one entrance. So, he rolled his eyes, probably just the left over fuel cells dying – like this thing should. It is odd though. The empire wasn’t known for its subtlety, what was this small insignificant building doing out here? There is nothing on this planet worth mining and the empire didn’t mine anyway, they exploited. This was quaint and almost domestic in a … living on a scumbag sort of way.

His boots squished on said scumbag as he approached the door. The control panel on it was opened and fried, as if someone had shot it with a blaster. He felt a tingle, but immediately rejected the idea of anything more sinister than a helpless squatter who might be inside.

He slid the door open. It didn’t give much resistance – just the feeble shriek of its old bones being forced to move against the frozen track. He stepped inside and the glow of the sunlight trying to pierce itself through all the gray, managed to leek a few rays in with him. His eyes scanned the room, but his instincts knew he saw it before they could adjust. The figure – clad in black. Standing squarely in the middle of the room. Hell yeah, he thought staring down this menacing looking creature.

“This should be fun.” He smirked, and the creature stepped forward.

There was nothing – nothing friendly or even soft about their gait. It was as though the entire aura was meant to cause terror. In fact, Staub could feel his fear being artificially rioted. He had to do a double take…yeah, artificially. He smiled, he’s always been addicted to the rush. Although he would like to die more gallantly than in some crap hole planet, this opponent felt worth his time.

He raised his blaster. His orders weren’t specifically to take out anyone he encountered, more to neutralize the possible Empire stronghold. His eyes rolled at the thought of this being a stronghold.

Another step forward. Staub felt like he better use the resistance code phrase just in case. What was it this month? Uhhhh shit.

“Sunsets and hope or… uhhh. Hope when you see the sunset?” He knew that wasn’t quite it but a resistance fighter would know what he was getting at.

The creature took another step, and Staub felt suddenly colder, as if he were outside. He could start picking out details. A bit taller than he, the creature appeared to be humanoid. They wore black robes draped about them like the stuff Luke used to wear around the mess hall before he went off to whatcha-ma-callit to train the new crop of Jedi however many years ago that was. Just the memory, evoking the image of Luke, made Staub pause for a moment and consider his options.

But it was too late, he heard a noise like he had only heard a few times in his life – the charging of a kyber crystal. The kyber crystals that powered the lightsabers. He didn’t know what else he expected, as the light shot out – a bright kinetic red. Now, he felt the panic.

“Shit, eff, shit…” He mumbled a string of profanities. “Shittttt. Who the ef …a s i t h? You are a sith?” 

He thought all the siths were all dead.

[ibonekoen]

Five headcanon for Major Cassian Andor because yesss spill it all out (and it means they're alive and well)!

Okay. *cracks knuckles* So you want some headcanons about Major Cassian Andor, huh? Well, chickadee, pull up a comfy seat and lemme lay some on you.(I'm absolutely setting this in my universe where Cassian and Captain Jyn Erso have a daughter named Hope. Also, these might get rambly)1) The thing is, Cassian had rehearsed in his head an elaborate proposal for Jyn and had agonized over whether to give her a ring or some other token of affection because she really wasn't the jewelry wearing type, and really, with the war and everything, wearing jewelry wasn't that feasible. There was the risk of losing the gemstone or scratching the ring or Force, idk, the ring might get stuck on something and she'd lose her hand.In the end, it didn't really matter much because Jyn beat him to the punch and blurted out the suggestion of getting married while they were watching the falling remnants of the second Death Star.(In the end, they opted for rings on chains worn around their necks and tucked under their clothes.)2) Cassian had been embarrassed at the thought of being promoted to Major, especially since Draven wanted to make such a big deal about it. Well, actually, no, it wasn't Draven's idea. Mon Mothma thought it might boost morale if the soldiers and officers saw one of their own elevated in rank in a long, long overdue ceremony. Draven tried his best to keep it low key, and Cassian begged and pleaded with Mon Mothma that it just be a quiet little thing where Draven just pinned on Cassian's new rank badge and shook his hand.Guess what? Draven did pin on Cassian's new rank badge and shook his hand -- in front of at least half the Rebel forces. Okay, maybe a third. 3) Cassian panicked when Chirrut dropped the bombshell about sensing Jyn's pregnancy with the Force. He dropped his tray of food and then hit the floor hard. He literally did not even remember passing out but he snapped to consciousness with Jyn and Bodhi and Baze crowded around him, shouting and generally making concerned noises that overwhelmed him.4) Major Andor and Captain Erso got married in the middle of a mission in the Outer Rim. They were trying to flush out some remnants of an Imperial faction, and there was a firefight, and I'm not saying there were blaster bolts sizzling through the air as they shouted at Han to marry them since he's the captain of a spaceship, but-- Oh, who am I kidding? That's totally how it happened. (And then they had a more official ceremony later, something low key and intimate.)Hope was born a year later, 5 ABY5) Cassian never expected to survive the war. He'd resigned himself to dying in the fight against the Empire. He didn't expect to live to see the collapse of the Empire and the birth of the New Republic. (Admittedly, for the former almost Separatist, it was kinda ironic to now be a Major for the New Republic.) He especially didn't expect to forge a family of his own, not just a brother and two fathers but a wife and eventually a child.That first moment that he held his daughter in his arms and stared in wonder at her perfect little face and her tiny little nose and her beautiful little ears and her precious little hands, he realized why they'd been fighting the Empire's oppression.(I mean, he /knew/ but it personally affected him in that moment.)

[mosylufanfic]

Shall We Dance?

Jyn considered herself well prepared for anything that the Rebellion could require of her. She could pick pockets, rifle through desks, shoot a blaster, bash a 'trooper's head in with a truncheon, run for safety, cover her partners' backs, and man the guns as Bodhi got them away.

However, this was a new one.

"I don't dance," she said flatly.

"You'll have to," Cassian told her. "This is a fancy party, there will be dancing."

"Why can't I hang around the edge of the floor eating darveen patties?" That she could handle.

"Because on the dance floor, we'll be able to monitor the room much more successfully. And if our mark asks you to dance, you'll be that much more able to pick his pocket."

"Why don't you dance with him?"

"Because he's not interested in men."

"Have you seen you? I bet you could make him interested."

"Stop trying to get out of it," he said, lips twitching. "Accept your fate, Jyn Erso. You're learning to dance for this mission."

She made a face.

"Your face will freeze that way if you're not careful," he said, lips twitching harder.

"It's Hoth, everything freezes," she growled. "Fine. When are we doing this thing?"

"Come to practice room C tonight after dinner. And you'll have to wear the shoes." He shut the door on her squawk of indignation.

When he saw what she turned up wearing, the smirk turned into an outright laugh. She'd followed the letter of his request and no more. She wore the thin-soled, strappy, sparkly high heels that intelligence wardrobe had supplied, but with them, she had on her usual uniform - sturdy pants, boxy shirt, heavy belt. She looked like a very fancy cargo loader.

She gave Cassian the evil eye, just on principle, and then looked around. "What are they doing here?" she asked, pointing at the rest of Rogue One.

"We're running the music," Bodhi said innocently.

Chirrut was more honest. "We wanted to watch the show." Baze grunted his agreement.

"I predict a ninety-four percent chance that you'll maim Cassian," K-2 announced, not sounding overly bothered by the prospect.

"I hate you all," she said.

"Yes, I know," Cassian grinned. "Come here."

After ten minutes, he wasn't grinning. "Ouch!" He dropped her hands and limped away from her, favoring the foot she'd just nearly put one of the heels through.

"I told you," K-2 and Jyn said at the same time.

He looked like he didn't know which one of them to glare at first. He let out his breath in a whoosh and pushed his fingers through his hair.

She bit her lip, looking a little shamefaced. "All these patterns," she said. "Put your foot there, move your arm like this. It's too much, I can't keep it straight. Look, I'm just not good at pretending."

"It's intelligence work. The whole point is to be what we're not," he said.

"The whole point is to get the job done," she said. "I can wear a dress and heels. I can put my hair up all fancy. I can even slap on lipstick. But none of that is going to make me dainty, or delicate, or graceful."

Baze grunted, "You're graceful when you fight."

The big man so rarely said anything that everyone turned to stare at him, except for Chiirrut, who grinned to himself.

After a moment, Cassian said, "He has a point." He turned back to Jyn, looking re-energized. "Look. Think of this as a fight."

Her eyes lit. "I get to punch you?"

"No," he said.

"You ruin all my fun."

"But you do have to be in my space." He walked right up to her so their bodies were six inches apart. She jolted in surprise, but held her ground. "Watching my body. Anticipating my movements from the way my shoulder drops, from the shift of my hip, from the movements of my eyes. You can do that. I've seen you."

She looked wary.

"The only difference is, you're mirroring what I do. Also, you're not going to try to maim me at any point,” he added, because she was so annoyed right now that he really wouldn’t put it past her to try and slip through that loophole.

She tilted her head, clearly thinking it over, then lifted her arms. "Okay. Fine. I'll try it that way."

He nudged her bicep until she dropped them again. "Forget about the arms for now. Never mind that. Just follow my lead," he murmured.

He stepped into her, and she automatically moved back. His lips curved. He stepped back, and catching on, she moved forward. They did one wide circuit of the room just like that, their bodies responding to each others' slightest shifts and changes.

"Good," he said. "Good, then. Arms now." He touched her waist, lightly, then settled his hand in the small of her back and took her hand in the other. Her other arm settled along his, and her hand curved over his shoulder. "Bodhi? Music please?"

Bodhi hit the button of the music player, and a woman's low voice crooned out of the speakers.

They began to move again.  Nominally Cassian led, but Rogue One knew them well enough to see that the lead shifted back and forth between them, fluid as plasma. They seemed to have forgotten anyone else was there, eyes fixed on each other.

They wouldn't win any dance competitions, but at the same time, there was a smoothness in Jyn's movements, a grace that had been missing from her stiff, awkward earlier attempts. It wasn't quite the furious, brawling grace of her fighting style, either. It was something more fluid, more sensual, more . . . intimate.

Bodhi squirmed a little and said, "Anyone feeling like we shouldn't be here?"

Baze raised his hand.

"Fifty percent, good enough for me," Bodhi said. He grabbed K-2's arm, the way Baze was grabbing Chirrut's, and hustled the droid toward the door.

Chirrut protested, "They don't seem to mind!"

"Voyeur," Baze muttered.

So did K-2, of course. "I fail to understand - "

"I know you don't, I'll explain it when you're older."

"I beg your pardon. I was manufactured thirty standard years ago - "

"Leave now, argue later." Bodhi slapped the door-close button, wondering if the couple they left behind even noticed.

They didn't, really.

"See?" Cassian murmured some minutes later, after the music had run out. "You can dance."

She bumped up one shoulder. "It's not so bad, I guess." Their arms had settled around each other, soft and close, their bodies swaying in tandem. "But I hope I'm not supposed to dance with the mark like this."

With a straight face, he said, "Well, if it gets the job done - "

She stepped on his foot - on purpose. He laughed and ducked his head to kiss her firmly on the mouth. She kissed him back until they both had to stop for air.

He rested his forehead against hers. They'd stopped moving and stood holding each other in the middle of the floor. "I don't need you to be dainty or delicate, you know," he told her.

Her eyes searched his face. "Not even for your precious mission?"

"Not even for the Rebellion," he said. "I only ever need you to be yourself." He kissed her again. "Strong and tough and beautiful, and graceful in your own particular way."

She kissed him back. "Well, good, because I've got that covered."

FINIS

[vanderlinde-moved]

but the gun still rattles

summary: What’s supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission goes terribly wrong when Jyn is recognized by a ghost from her past.

jyn/cassian, mostly angst w/ hurt/comfort at the end, trigger warnings for torture and suicidal thoughts, 9.1k words

read it on ao3!

If Jyn had to pick a least favorite planet, she’d choose Scarif without hesitation. Most of it is gone now, destroyed by the Death Star, but that doesn’t stop the nightmares and memories she sees burned into the back of her eyelids most nights.

Tamsye Prime would be second, but it’s close. Very close.

Jyn hates it here. Hates that the Imperials cracked down on the planet after nearly destroying it years ago, hates how everyone is so indifferent, apathetic, keeping their heads down and surviving one day at a time. Hates seeing her old self reflected back in every face they pass.

The weather here is absolute crap too; Bodhi had trouble dropping them off, barely managing to touch down without being swept away by the wind. It’s so kriffing hot she thinks that her skin is going to melt off. And it smells weird and her clothes are itchy and there might be sand in her eye, though it is possible it’s only an eyelash.

But maybe she’s biased. Maybe she’s trying to think of minuscule complaints to distract her from the fact that every time she lets her thoughts wander, she sees herself at sixteen, crouched in a bunker with a blaster in her shaky hands, watching Saw take off in the shuttle and abandon her.

At the time she hadn’t know he wasn’t coming back. She should have, but she had let herself foolishly hope that he actually cared about her. So she waited until it was almost too late, escaped by the skin of her teeth, and cursed his name for years after.

She’s nervous. Jittery. Hasn’t felt this way in a long time. She thought she had got over it after talking to Saw on Jedha, but apparently not.

Cassian notices on the flight over, and she’s not surprised. Bodhi does too, asking her about her shaky hands and distracted answers. It’s obvious that she’s miles away (still in that bunker, all these years later) but she waves him off with a tight smile and tells him to tell her about the ship to distract him. And that’s the end of it – at least, she thinks so.

She should have known better.

“You’ve been here before,” Cassian observes. It’s not a guess.

She scowls, crossing her arms over her chest. Her gaze is pointedly forward, not wanting to look him in the eye. “Yes.”

She doesn’t elaborate any further. He only hums in acknowledgment, strapping his blaster to his belt. When he speaks again, it’s softer. More gentle. It’s not pity, but something else she doesn’t recognize. Understanding, maybe. “If you want, I can head out myself. You can stay with Bodhi.”

“I’m fine, Cass,” she mutters, wiping a hand across her brow. It comes away wet with sweat. “Let’s get going, okay?”

The sooner they’re off this planet, the better.

“Jyn,” he says, grabbing her wrist and tugging her back to him. She lets him. “You don’t have to tell me. But I want to make sure you’re all right.”

She bites her lip, debating on whether or not to say anything. Apparently she’s not as good at hiding herself around him as she thought. “I was left here.”

His grip grows tighter, his mouth twists. He knows what she’s talking about immediately, which is a relief. She doesn’t think she’d be able to say anymore about it, not here – even years later, the memory still pains her. It’s a dull knife twisting her in stomach. “Saw.”

“Yeah,” she mutters grimly, tugging out of his grip. “Let’s get going. I hate this kriffing planet.”

He doesn’t push the issue. She’s grateful for that.

It’s been a long time since Jyn’s been on an Intelligence mission. She works almost exclusively with the Pathfinders now and only occasionally with Han Solo. But Draven had requested her specifically, according to Cassian, and she thinks the general knows more about her past than he lets on.

Supposedly, there’s a rebel cell here. Her and Cassian are under strict orders to observe and see if it’s worth the Rebellion’s aid. Basically, their word determines whether or not the rebels on Tamsye Prime get supplies from the Alliance.

It’s eerily similar to the mission she went on with Saw seven years ago. The mission that ended up with her all on her own.

(looking back, maybe she should have stayed on the ship.)

For a planet that’s strictly under the Empire’s thumb, the main street is loud and bustling. There’s people all around them, talking, yelling, pushing them aside. Jyn thinks there’s some sort of fight happening to her left and she almost gets knocked into it until Cassian tugs her away.

Despite the noise, she hears the shout loud and clear.

“Liana Hallik!”

To her credit, she barely flinches. Cassian shoots her a look – “you okay?” – and she nods, too quickly, tugging him forward. He touches his ear briefly, presumably fiddling with his comlink.

She doesn’t pay it much mind. All she can focus on getting out of here. She doesn’t look back, doesn’t acknowledge she recognizes the speaker. A small, foolish part of her hopes that this will be the end of it. They have a mission, they need to complete it.

Of course, Jyn’s never been that lucky.

“Don’t try me, Hallik,” the speaker sneers, grabbing Jyn’s arm. Jyn jerks around, suddenly face to face with a ghost she had hoped died long ago. “We’re friends, remember?”

Friends are the last thing they are, made obvious when the stormtroopers flanking her move to restrain both Jyn and Cassian. When she struggles to get out of their grip, the two ‘troopers holding her only tighten it.

“Still a fighter, I see.”

Commander Solange is almost a head taller than her, looming over Jyn’s small form. Besides the new scar bisecting her eyebrow, she looks the same as she did all those months ago when her and the admiral went against their word and locked her up in Wobani.

“Please,” Cassian pleads, slipping into an identity Jyn doesn’t recognize. He doesn’t try to fight the stormtroopers, but instead sags in their arms. “What is this about? My wife and I are just passing through.”

Before she can react, the ‘trooper next to him slams the butt of their rifle into Cassian’s temple. He lets out a groan of pain, his knees giving out.

“What the hell – “

Jyn sees red, straining to attack the soldier who hit Cassian. But Solange reaches forward and grips Jyn’s chin in her hands. “I’ll kill him if you don’t cooperate. Let’s play nice, shall we, Liana?”

Jyn wants to spit at her feet, but the ‘troopers are armed to the teeth and she doubts they’ll hesitate to shoot her if she does anything rash. It’s been some time, but the slip into Liana Hallik is almost seamless. “What do you want? Got another gambling problem?”

“I’ve been stationed here for a while. This is just a routine patrol.” Solange replies evenly, taking a step forward. Jyn has to crane her head up to look her in the eye. “The Empire relocated me after the mess on Five Points. Supposedly there are lots of rebels in this area.”

“Are there?” Her voice betrays nothing. Liana Hallik doesn’t care about anyone except for herself. Certainly not a small, unorganized resistance.

(jyn erso, on the other hand, wonders just how much the empire knows about the rebellion here. too bad that not who she is right now.)

“Don’t pretend, Hallik,” Solange says. “A little bird told me you escaped prison and joined up with them.”

“Please,” Jyn scoffs, rolling her eyes. Her face is a portrait of nonchalance, but her heart is racing, pulse hammering. How much does she know? Does she know about Scarif? About Rogue One? If this puts the rest of her team in danger, she doesn’t think she could live with it. “You and I both know I’m not one for picking sides.”

“And we both know you only do things for money. We’re cut from the same cloth, hmm?” Solange says wryly, as if they’re two friends chatting over a cup of tea. “So you say you’re not in the Rebellion, fine,” when Jyn opens her mouth to argue, Solange holds up a hand, “but you’re clearly not in Wobani anymore. And if I recall correctly, there’s a hefty bounty on all escaped prisoners.”

“There was a security breach,” Jyn snaps. Her hands itch for her blaster, for her truncheons, for a weapon. She’s defenseless and she doesn’t like it, especially when she knows how far Solange will go for credits. “I took advantage of it.”

The Imperial woman purses her lips in thought. There’s a sour taste in the back of Jyn’s throat; she has a sinking suspicion that she’s said the wrong thing. “I heard about that. But it seems kind of odd that the rebels would only take you, don’t you think?”

Behind her, she feels Cassian stiffen. She doesn’t need to see his face to know that he’s worried, but he doesn’t say anything. He trusts her to take care of this, and she hopes that his faith isn’t misplaced.

“The Empire was going to kill me before I ever finished my time there,” she replies in an off-hand way, as if her dying in prison would be no big deal. “The Rebellion wanted me to fight for them. I didn’t agree. So I stole a ship and left.”

For a moment, Jyn thinks that she believes it. After all, it’s not too far from the truth. But a woman like Solange would never have risen so high up in the Empire’s ranks if she wasn’t suspicious of the words of a seemingly petty criminal.

But she changes the subject instead of questioning it further, clearly expecting to throw Jyn off balance. She’s hoping that Jyn’ll slip up somewhere and admit her anti-Imperial ties. “Didn’t think you were the type to settle down, Hallik. He’s with the Rebellion?”

“Kriff no. It’s a marriage of convenience,” Jyn replies quickly (too quickly, a voice in the back of her mind says) but sticks with it. “There’s no love between us and he’s a good fuck. That’s all.”

“I work at the mines here,” Cassian says easily, his accent thicker than she’s ever heard it. This is natural for him, lying. Fitting into a persona. “I’m not a rebel.”

“For some reason, I’m not inclined to believe you.” Solange responds with a tilt of her head and a glint in her eyes. She makes a quick movement with her hand. When Jyn risks a quick glance behind her, one of the ‘troopers has his rifle pointed at Cassian’s chest. Her heart stutters.

“He’s nobody important, Solange. He works for the damn Empire. I needed to relieve some tension,” at that, she shrugs. “You know how it is. Just let him go.”

“Unless you want to die before we get to Wobani, it’s ‘sir’ to you, Hallik.”

“Let him go, sir,” Jyn sneers.

“I would, but,” Solange spreads her hands out, as if there’s nothing she can do, “here’s the issue. I want the bounty on your head and I don’t want anyone coming after you. If he’s nobody, then it’s no big deal if I shoot him, hmm?”

Liana Hallik would agree. Liana Hallik wouldn’t care if Cassian died on the streets of Tamsye Prime and Solange knows it.

But Jyn Erso cares a lot.

“Why waste the bullets?” she says lazily, a hint of desperation lacing her tone. That small movement snaps one of the blasters in her direction. “Let him go. It’s me you want.” There’s an unspoken plea. Let him live and I’ll come quietly.

Jyn Erso slips through there, at the end. There’s a crack in her voice that Liana Hallik would never make and her tone is a bit too pleading for a disdainful smuggler.

Solange notices – of course she does. Jyn sees her response in her face, something along the lines of “Why would I ever do that?”

Then she raises her hand and flicks it forward, then there’s a blaster shot but it’s not her that’s getting hit, and she doesn’t need to look that it goes right into Cassian’s chest, and then there’s a thump as his body hits the ground behind her. There’s no whimper of pain, he’s too well-trained for that, but Jyn thinks she can hear a small hitch in his breathing before it wheezes to a stop. It grows quieter, so quiet she can’t hear it over the rush of blood to her head, and then she can’t hear it at all.

He’s not breathing. He’s supposed to be breathing – why isn’t he? Why isn’t he breathing? She can’t hear him breathing.

No. Not him.

She doesn’t even look back as her fingers curl into fists. Red hot fury consumes Jyn as she leaps forward seconds later and tackles Solange to the ground, having every intention to beat the other woman into a bloody pulp. She’s yelling but she doesn’t know what she’s saying, and there’s a lot of yelling that’s not coming from her, drawing a crowd around them.

There’s a voice that sounds like Saw’s in the back of her head, but it’s hard to hear over the noise. You need to calm down, my child. Anger makes you reckless. Anger gets you killed.

She thinks, rather absently, as she slams a fist in Solange’s nose, that she wouldn’t mind that if it meant she would get to be with Cassian again.

But the stormtroopers behind her – the stormtroopers who killed Cassian – one of them hits her in the temple with the butt of their rifle and she falls unwillingly into darkness.

Jyn snaps back into reality when she’s nearly thrown across the floor. The ship she’s in is rattling and groaning with each second, sounding so broken that she wonders if it’ll fall apart before they reach the prison. The lighting is dim and flickering, but she can just make out the boxes and shelves in front of her. Some sort of cargo shuttle, then.

She begins assessing the problem rationally. She’s bound, with her arms are wrenched behind her back, restrained by binders that are a notch too tight. It’s going to be hard to get out of here with her hands behind her back. As far as injuries go, there’s nothing serious. Her head is aching and she can feel dried blood sticking to her temple and she might be concussed but that’s fine. She doesn’t have a hole in her chest, not like –

Jyn thinks she’s going to vomit.

But she doesn’t. She doesn’t vomit. She lets herself cry, pulling her knees up to her chest so she can muffle her sobs, lets herself grieve, lets herself feel the pang in her heart. Force. It’s so hard to think about a life without him. She half expects him to march through the door any second now and pick the locks of the restraints around her wrists. Somehow miraculously be alive.

Then she remembers the sound that he made when he fell. And how he didn’t get back up again.

And Bodhi. Bodhi’s alone, sitting in the shuttle, waiting for them. It’s long past the time they were supposed to be back. She wonders if he left. Wonders if he went looking for them and found a body with a hole in his chest instead. She hopes he’s okay, that he’s safe. If she goes back to the Alliance after all this, it will be for him. For Bodhi and Chirrut and Baze.

Jyn wonders what she’ll tell K2-SO when he’s finally rebuilt. She wonders if she’ll even rebuild him or just leave him in pieces on their – hers, now – desk.

She lets herself think about this things, each new thought leaving a hole in her heart that only grows bigger and bigger. He left her. Not intentionally, like her mother and father and Saw, but now she’s alone.

Protect your heart. Close yourself off. They always leave in the end. And now you’re hurting because you’ve gotten soft, Jyn Erso. What would Saw say? What would Kestrel or Tanith or Liana do? Not fucking this.

So she lets herself grieve, but only for a few minutes. And then she shuts down.

She shoves him and all of her feelings into the cave in her mind and locks the hatch tight. This isn’t something she can think about now, not when she’s in the hands of the Empire. Later, later when she’s safe, she can cry. Later, she can think about a life without him.

Shutting her eyes, she takes a deep, shuddering breath, then leans her head back against wall she’s propped up against. Composes herself. Stops crying.

Solange walks in not a minute later, holding a data pad in one hand. “Good. You’re awake.”

Jyn doesn’t respond, doesn’t move. She can hear the sound of something being dragged across the floor, so she opens her eyes to see Solange settling herself in a chair directly across from her. There’s an angry looking bruise covering her nose; Jyn takes some satisfaction in that.

“This isn’t personal, you know?”

“Isn’t it?”

“I need the money. Finding you on Tamsye Prime was merely a coincidence. I can’t say I’d take you to be a rebel – you’re not the type to pick sides, especially not after you sold out Blue – but I suppose it’s possible. And the bounty on your head is so high.”

The guilt of that, of going behind Blue’s back and working with Rocwyn and Solange to protect her own skin, makes it hard to breathe. And even after being forced to betray a crew of people she had been beginning to trust, the Empire still locked her up.

“If you needed the money so badly, then why didn’t you ask me to splice you a few more game tokens?” Jyn snarls. “I did that for you back on Five Points.”

“You got caught, ” Solange points out, her tone infuriatingly even. “Or do you not remember being tied up in Pso’s Palace?”

Jyn doesn’t grace that with a response.

Solange taps her right cheek with her finger, then gestures to Jyn. “Ran into some trouble in our time apart, I see.”

Her burns prickle on her skin, feeling hotter than usual. Suddenly she’s back on Scarif again, in that elevator, on the beach feeling the force of the explosion across her skin, but all it takes is a deep breath to steady herself and she’s back in the cargo bay again.

(she’d rather be on scarif. she wasn’t alone on that beach, not like she is now.)

“What do you want, Solange?” Jyn’s so kriffing tired. “Not surprisingly, I don’t want to chat. Leave me alone, yeah?”

“Don’t think so,” the Imperial says with a twist of her lips that’s probably supposed to be a smile. She stands up from her chair and grabs Jyn by the arm, pulling her up. “We’re just coming out of hyperspace. I thought you’d like to get the first glimpse of Wobani.”

This goes unspoken: You got lucky last time, but there’s no rescue coming for you. You’re going to die here.

The warden bears no resemble to the man in white – Krennic, her mind supplies – but somehow she sees him anyway. It’s in the way he stands, how he looms over her when Solange drags her into the room and how he looks at her like she’s scum. That he’s better than her.

The room is blindingly white. There’s guards posted at the door, equipped with rifles and shock batons. If she’s going to fight her way out of here, then that’s going to be an issue.

“Warden Miran, sir,” Solange says, keeping a firm grip on Jyn’s bicep. “Liana Hallik. She escaped from prison a couple months ago during the rebel attack.”

“Hm. You tracked her down, then?”

“I recognized her on Tamsye Prime. We have a history together – I was the one who put her here in the first place. I caught her during a patrol, sir.”

“You’ll want the credits, then.” At Solange’s curt nod, he pulls out a scanner. “Let me run her through the system and then you’ll get your bounty.”

“Thank you, sir.”

When Miran raises the facial recognizer up to her, her heart clenches. Right after Scarif, she remembers Draven saying something about how the Empire might recognize the people who stole the Death Star plans. If she’s recognized as Jyn Erso –

The butt of a rifle slams down between her shoulder blades when she tries to get out of Solange’s grip. Her breath catches, and she can barely clamp down on a cry when her knees give out and she hits the floor, hard.

Miran doesn’t seem concerned. Why would he be? He deals with this shit all the time. All he does is frown ever so slightly, the corner of his mouth turning downward as he moves out from behind his desk to get closer.

He bends to grab her chin and jerks her head upward. She can barely contain her shudder. “Liana Hallik,” he says, finally getting the results. His thumb brushes against the scars on her cheek ever so lightly. “You look a little worse for wear.”

Jyn pulls her chin out of his grasp and spits at his feet. For that, he backhands her across the face, sending her flying toward the ground. The copper taste of blood fills her mouth and her cheek is on fire. But even through the pain she can still his touch on her face and she wants to gag at the wrongness of it all.

“Take her up top,” he says, nodding to the two guards at the door. She’s hauled unceremoniously to her feet. “Prep the droids. It’s been awhile since we’ve captured a rebel. Perhaps she has some new information for us.”

“I’m not a fucking rebel,” Jyn snarls, trying to lunge out of the guards’ grasp. They drag her to the door. “I have nothing to do with them!”

“We’ll see about that,” he hums, setting the scanner back on the desk. An overwhelming want to carve him to pieces washes over her. “I’ll be up in a couple minutes. Oh, and Liana?”

She’s out the door at this point, but doesn’t look back. Doesn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing the fear in her eyes.

“Welcome home.”

As they drag her down the hallway, an echo of an old conversation repeats in her head.

“I’m not used to people sticking around when things go bad.”

“Welcome home.”

The thing about torture –

it’s always the same.

Sometimes it’s droids or sometimes it’s a person with too many tools or sometimes it’s simply being shoved in a dark room without food or water, but it’s all the same.

They want her to break.

i am one with the force the force is with me

Here’s the thing: it’s been a long time since Jyn Erso’s been tortured. The Rebellion, she realizes later, has given her a sense of security. A place where she feels not quite safe but not in danger either. Most days, she doesn’t even think about running.

All lot of these feelings can be connected back to Cassian. But Cassian – he’s not –

Cassian’s not around

anymore.

It’s been a long time since Jyn Erso’s been tortured. She’s never broken before. But she thinks, as the droid injects her with something that makes her blood boil, as she tastes blood in her mouth from nearly splitting her tongue in two, as the man in white asks her again and again about the Rebellion, she thinks that she might.

Maybe then they’ll kill her. She’ll feel guilt, of course, for giving up her friends, but at least she won’t have to worry about that for long.

Then she’ll be with Cassian. If she’s dead they’ll

be together again.

i am one with the force the force is with me

But she doesn’t break. Not when she curls up in her cell at night, not knowing what day it is and barely remembering who she is – Jyn Erso, your name is Jyn – and certainly not when the man in white tells the droids to increase the dosage.

She doesn’t break. Instead, she begins to plan.

Jyn dreams of being rescued.

It doesn’t happen the same way each time. Sometimes, it’s Bodhi and Chirrut and Baze who come for her, shooting all of the guards and breaking down the bars of her cell. Sometimes it’s a faceless rebel, someone she doesn’t know, but this time, she doesn’t hit them with a shovel and cooperates.

Sometimes Cassian comes to get her. Those are both the best and worst kind of dreams. When she wakes up, the pain of his loss stays with her for the rest of the day.

Realistically, she knows that no one is coming to save her. The only way she’s getting out of this prison is if she breaks herself out. And that’s exactly what she intends to do.

They put Jyn to work hours, days, weeks after. She doesn’t know how long she’s been here. It all starts to blend together – she sleeps, she eats, she’s tortured. There’s no such thing as day and night in a windowless cell. Sometimes, she’s left in darkness for hours on end then suddenly subjected bright light when all she wants to do is rest.

Wobani is a labor camp, so it’s not surprising when she’s eventually dragged out of her room and placed on a convoy. She scans the faces of the other prisoners, hoping to recognize someone. Maybe someone is here from the Rebellion, looking to break someone else out. She doesn’t know if she’s grateful or disappointed when she doesn’t find anyone familiar.

Nobody talks to her, taking special care to avoid being too close. She wonders if there’s rumors being spread around at night, spoken only in hushed whispers. She’s a rebel spy. Got her locked up top. Sometimes I can hear her screaming.

But the lack of human contact, of being treated like she doesn’t exist, echoes faintly of her life before Rogue One. Back then, that’s how she wanted it, but it’s been a long time since her heart has ached this fiercely.

She’s sent to the farms on the first couple days. It’s the easiest job at Wobani, and she’s sure that she’s only given it because of the torture she’s been put through. It’s not something she’s thankful for, but the work is mindless and she completes it with a ruthless efficiency. There’s something extremely satisfying in hitting the ground as hard as she can with her shovel.

And while she doesn’t know when the guards will take her back to the droids and the man in white, she knows they will. The Empire needs all the labor it can get, so she’s put to work like any other prisoner. But she’s got information and they know it. She’s not stupid enough to think that the torture is over just because they’ve given her a change of scenery.

The droids barely leave a mark on her. Most of the pain comes from a needle or electricity. Her arm hurts, and there’s a makeshift bandage around it but she doesn’t remember why. She doesn’t look underneath it, only at the blood that’s staining the fabric red. A part of her wants it to get infected.

The biggest issue is that Jyn’s thoughts are scattered. Messy. The torture leaves more mental marks than physical. Some mornings it’s hard to remember what’s happened to her, so she runs through it again and again until she gets it right.

My name is Jyn Erso. My father’s name is Galen and my mother’s name is Lyra. I lived with Saw Gerrera until I was sixteen. I’m with the Rebellion now. I was on Scarif with Rogue One – Bodhi, Baze, Chirrut, K2-SO, and –

Fuck.

My name is Jyn Erso. My father’s is Galen and my mother’s is Lyra. I lived with Saw Gerrera. I’m a rebel. I was on Scarif. My team is Rogue One – Bodhi, Baze, Chirrut, K2-SO, and…Cassian.

It’s hard to think sometimes. She loses focus easily, trains of thoughts stopping suddenly and without warning. She forgets small details such as the last time she’s slept or eaten. But she hasn’t broken yet.

Most of her concentration goes into making an escape plan. The one she has is disorganized – it involves her hijacking the convoy, driving it to the hangar, and stealing a ship without dying. The likelihood of it succeeding is low. She can imagine what Kay would say in response to it, something along the lines of “There is only a 12% chance of success, Jyn Erso. That is low. You will probably die.”

Probably. But if there’s even a small chance she’ll get out of here, she’ll run the risk. And if she fails, well, that wouldn’t be so bad either.

All that’s left is to wait and find an opportunity. It comes a couple days later.

The lights switch on, signaling what Jyn assumes is morning. It’s more consistent now that she’s working. She groans, rubbing at her eyes and wiping off her sweaty forehead. It’s so kriffing hot in her cell and her arm hurts more than normal. But she doesn’t have time to dwell on it because she’s up on her feet as soon as the guards start unlocking the door.

She stumbles out of her cell and is taken downstairs, where she’s pushed into a line behind the other prisoners. A pair of binders are slapped on her wrists as they’re hustled outdoors. The air feels heavy and there’s a cloud of smoke rising over the horizon, but at least it’s not raining like it did yesterday. When she’s pushed toward the smog, she nearly slips in the mud, but doesn’t let her confusion show. Maybe they’ve finally realized she’s not going to talk and assigned her to a more permanent job on the work rooster.

She’s still wary. The warden could be trying to catch her off guard in a change of schedule. It’s likely he’ll visit her cell tonight.

The truck to the factory is silent. Not even the stormtroopers talk among themselves, instead choosing to sit with their rifles trained on the prisoners. She doesn’t look at them, bowing her head and resting her elbows on her knees in an attempt to get comfortable.

The drive to the factory is shorter than it is to the farm. That’s good. If she can manage to sneak out and grab the convoy, then that takes precious minutes off of her escape route. And if she needs to run, there’s a small chance she’ll make it without being shot in the back.

Jyn’s placed at the front of the assembly line. Her job is to shift through the spare parts and toss anything that can’t be salvaged before they’re melted down. The whole process is very reminiscent of the first time she was at Wobani, and she thinks that the warden must have a strange sense of humor in assigning her here again. It’s boring work, but not tedious, and she soon finds herself falling into a rhythm.

Still, she keeps one eye at the task at hand and the other watching the guards circle. If she’s lucky, then one of the prisoners on the other side of the line will mess something up and their attention will go to them. Once their focus is elsewhere, she can sneak out the back. The hard part is going to be taking out the guards who will inevitably guarding the convoy. She’s not certain she can do it in the state she’s in, but Saw Gerrera didn’t raise a quitter.

The hours pass. Her back begins to ache from being hunched over the conveyor belt. Every so often her fingers slip on a piece of metal – her hands are shaky, too shaky. She wonders if she’s going to be the one who drops something or if anyone is going to mess up at all. That would mean another night in her cell and another night spent as a prisoner.

Her fingers tighten around the screw she’s holding. Then the wall farthest away from her explodes.

For a second, Jyn can’t do anything except stare at the place where concrete used to be. Smoke fills her lungs and she coughs, pulling the front of her jumpsuit up over her mouth. Vaguely, she can see blaster fire through the haze and that’s all the motivation she needs to get the hell out of there.

As soon as the stormtroopers run out of the factory to investigate, Jyn bolts in the other direction, shouldering her way through the crowds of prisoners. It’s chaos. Everyone has the same idea as she does, hoping to get free, hoping to escape this godforsaken planet.

“Hope?”

“Yeah. Rebellions are built on hope.”

She doesn’t really believe in hope. Not anymore, not since Tamsye Prime.

She forces her way out the door and stops only briefly to assess her surroundings. The factory is farther away from the hangar than she originally anticipated but it’s not far enough where she’d need to steal the convoy. Good thing, too – a squad of ‘troopers is using it for cover as they fire back at the intruders.

The ship looks vaguely familiar, though she doesn’t dwell on it. It’s the kind of distraction she’s been waiting for, so she doesn’t linger. Jyn pushes herself in a sprint, but it only takes a few seconds before sweat is pouring down her temples and her lungs constrict.

Something is wrong. The ground spins underneath her feet and she has to blink rapidly to clear her head. Why can’t I breathe?

She’s never had this much trouble running before. But the pain needs to shoved down, back in the cave along with all of the other things she’s locked up there. She just needs to reach the hangar bay. It’s only a little bit farther.

Run, Jyn.

It’s not the first time she’s thankful for Saw’s intensive training. She’s had to escape tighter situations with worse injuries so she knows that she can make it. And she’s not going to quit, just slow down a little. Pause to catch her breath.

She stumbles, then stops. Places her hands on her knees and tries to breathe, sucking down all of the air she can get. Two seconds later, and she’s back on her feet, arms pumping –

and then she’s stumbling forward, caught in another explosion and knocked to the ground in the blast. Scrambling to her feet quickly, she risks a quick look behind her and her eyes widen at the sight. The ship is in flames, and when she squints, she can see bodies surrounding it, but she doesn’t know who’s dead. It’s too far away.  

“Fuck,” she breathes out, then doesn’t waste another thought on it. The remaining stormtroopers will be rounding up the other prisoners soon, likely shooting a couple of them to make an example. That’s not something she wants to get caught in. She’s leaving Wobani today , one way or another.

She resumes running, though now it’s more a slow jog. It’s too difficult to go any faster. Her necklace, the one Cassian made for her, feels tight around her neck, as if it’s cutting off her air. She ignores the feeling, reaching up to grab it with one hand. Immediately, she’s comforted.

Almost there. I’m sorry, Cass.

In the distance, she sees a ‘trooper. She ducks reflexively, scanning the area for some sort of weapon but nothing is going to stop a blaster bolt right at her head. However, when she looks up again, there’s nothing there.

Well. She can’t help but be a little relieved, despite what seeing things means.

The hangar isn’t much farther away, and she makes it in a few stumbling breaths. She pauses at the entrance, leaning up against the door to stay standing. When she rights herself, she scans the room. There’s not as many ships here as she hoped, but there’s got to be something here that she can fly.

“Jyn! Force, is that you?”

Before she can react, someone’s grabbing her from behind. Their arms are too tight and too restricting, so she shoves them off blindly, and staggers back. Her vision is blurry, but she can only just make out the figure in front of her raising his arms in surrender.

“Jyn? It’s me – uh, it’s Bodhi!”

Her mind clears and a flush rises up in her cheeks. “Bodhi! I’m sorry. I panicked,” It’s cloudy and there’s a cool breeze, but she still feels too warm, as if the sun is beating down on her. She didn’t notice a change in temperature from outdoors to the hangar, but it’s possible. “I didn’t…”

Recognize you. Didn’t think I’d run into anyone here.

She wavers and Bodhi is at her side in an instant, steadying her with a gentle hand curled around her elbow. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she answers, but her tongue feels heavy. “What – what are you doing here?”

It’s a coincidence. It has to be. Some sort of mission the Rebellion gave them. There isn’t any other explanation why he’s here right now. Maybe it’s to break someone else out of here. Maybe he’s just a hallucination. But there’s no way he could have known Solange took her back here.

For a moment, she panics. What if he’s a prisoner, just like her? It’s possible. The ‘troopers could have traced the coms back to the ship and taken him –

Bodhi grips her shoulders tightly. “Hey. Easy, easy! It’s all right. Don’t panic, okay?” He looks over his shoulder worriedly then glances back at her. “C’mon, Jyn, just breathe.”

“Why are you here, Bodhi?” Jyn says softly. Are you real? Are you really here? “What’s going on?”

“We’re rescuing you, of course,” Chirrut says, rounding the corner with Baze at his back. He grins at her, shouldering his smoking laser cannon. “I think that’s obvious. Isn’t it, dear?”

That must have been their ship, she realizes. And they’re not dead – those must have been stormtrooper bodies caught in the explosion. She sways, dizzy with relief. They’re alive.

If they had died for her like Cassian –

“Good to see you, little sister,” Baze responds, clapping her fondly on the shoulder. “‘Echo Base isn’t nearly the same without you.”

“It’s not.” Chirrut agrees. “There is a lot less trouble when you are not around. It’s not as fun.”Bodhi shifts and wraps his arm around her waist. At that, Chirrut frowns suddenly and leans forward to press his hand against her forehead. “I don’t need my sight to know that you’re fading.”

They don’t know, she realizes. How could they? Bodhi peers at something over Chirrut’s head and for a moment she panics. Is he looking for Cassian? Does he think he’s here too is she going to have to tell them that he’s dead?

“I’m fine,” she responds, shaking her head and deciding she’ll deal with that problem later. There are more pressing issues to take care of now. She moves out of Bodhi’s grip and starts to climb into the nearest ship. It looks barely big enough to hold the four of them but it’s going to have to do. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“We can’t leave without Cassian. He’s still doing a sweep of the factory.”

Jyn freezes, glances down over her shoulder at Bodhi. Her hand is gripping the railing so tight that her knuckles are turning white. “What did you just say?”

That’s when Cassian comes running up to them, blaster in hand. This time, Jyn knows she’s hallucinating because this is impossible. This has to be some sort of fever dream.

But for some reason, he doesn’t disappear when she looks away, not like the stormtrooper did.

His left arm is in a sling and there are bandages peeking out from underneath his collar. He’s panting and there’s sweat beading up on his temples, but other than that, he looks alive. There isn’t any blood on his shirt and there’s no hole in his chest. Jyn takes a step back, retreating into the ship. If she’s seeing things, then she’s not going to last much longer. They need to leave now .

“We need to get out of here,” he says. “Reinforcements are on the way. I couldn’t find her, but I think – “

Baze shifts. That’s when Cassian sees her and rushes over to the ship. He reaches up to cup her face with his good hand. He looks surprised, as if she shouldn’t be standing there. She can’t move, only look down at him.  “Jyn! You’re all right!”

His grip feels so real. The touch of his fingertips against her skin, the feel of his thumbs stroking her cheekbones. He scans her for injuries, eyes pausing on the bandage on her arm and the state that she’s currently in.

All she can do is reach a shaky arm out to him. He grasps her hand in his own and holds it to his heart. She can feel it beating underneath his shirt but it shouldn’t be. The last time she saw him was dead on the ground on Tamsye Prime.

“Cass – “ she tries to say, but the pounding in her ears is suddenly too loud and her heart is thumping too fast. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe. When her knees give out, Cassian is the only thing that keeps her from falling to the ground. Vaguely, before she fades completely, she feels herself being gathered into his arms.

Later, once she’s more coherent, she tells herself she passed out because of the fever, not because she saw a ghost.

Jyn wakes to the sound of praying.

“I am one with the Force. The Force is with me. I am one with the Force. The Force is with me.”

She opens her eyes, still crusty from sleep. She can feel the humming of the engines through the cot that she’s laying on. The room she’s in is small, most likely one of the crew’s quarters. She’s no longer in her prison jumpsuit, instead in a shirt and a pair of pants that are much too big for her and smell like Cassian.

Chirrut is sitting on a stool next to her, eyes open but not looking at her. When he notices her attention, however, he smiles.

“It’s about time you woke up, little sister. I was getting impatient.”

“Yeah,” Jyn grunts, shifting so she can prop herself up on her elbows. Her arm feels stiff, but it doesn’t hurt as much anymore. At a closer inspection, she sees the bacta patch on it. She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, then says, “What happened?”

In his usual fashion, Chirrut doesn’t answer her question. Instead, he tells her, “The Force moves around you, Jyn Erso. Not as strongly, but I can feel it still. I believe that is why you are here with us today.”

She frowns at that, her brow furrowed in confusion. “But my necklace – the kyber crystal – it was destroyed on Scarif.”

“It was,” he agrees. “Your mother gave it to you. Lyra Erso.”

Jyn doesn’t remember ever telling him that, but she’s used to him knowing things that he shouldn’t. “Yes. Back on Lah’mu.” Before she left me to save Papa and the stormtroopers killed her for it.

A memory comes to her, unbidden. Back in her cell, when the man in white and the droids had tortured her, she remembers praying. And while she doesn’t believe in the Force, not really, the words had held a measure of comfort.

And she hadn’t broken. Not once.

Chirrut hums, clearly thinking but doesn’t decide to share his thoughts with her. Instead, he answers her earlier question. “You passed out. The Captain insisted on carrying you here, but didn’t make it too far with his bad shoulder. So Baze took you the rest of the way.” He wags a finger at her, mock-accusing. “You’re lucky. Baze hasn’t carried me like that in years.”

Jyn reaches up to the hollow of her throat where her necklace lies, gripping it tightly. “So it wasn’t a dream, then.”

“No.”

She lets out a heavy sigh. Her free hand curls in the blanket and she squeezes her eyes shut to warn off a wave of dizziness. “Cassian – he’s not dead.”

Chirrut’s smile is soft. He reaches over to grab her hand with one of his own. “He has barely left your side. I told him to get some rest a couple hours ago.” he tilts his head to the side. “I could go get him, if you’d like.”

“No, let him sleep,” she rasps, then swallows. Her heart beats a staccato rhythm in her chest, but she pushes the blankets away and stands on unsteady feet. Chirrut moves to steady her. “Thank you.”

He pats her hand once. “For you, little sister, anything.”

Her face warms at the sentiment and she has to duck her head to hide her blush. It’s been a long time ( too long) since she’s has something this – something that feels like family.

Chirrut hadn’t lied – Cassian is nowhere to be found. Her heart stops for a moment, looking back and forth for any sign of him, any sign that he’s alive, until she remembers what Chirrut said. This is real. He’s alive.

Baze is resting up against the wall, eyes closed. When she enters the main room, however, he grins at her. “Up on your feet already, I see.”

“I’ve gotten enough sleep,” she responds easily, though she has to brace herself up against the wall for a second before continuing on to the cockpit. Next to Bodhi, the copilot’s seat is empty and she sinks into it slowly.

“You’re awake,” Bodhi says quickly, turning to her with wide eyes. He must not have heard her walk in. “Are you – are you feeling any better?”

“Mostly,” Jyn says with a slight roll of her shoulders. She doesn’t tell him how it’s hard to close her eyes without seeing Wobani in the darkness or her thoughts are scattered and lost, even though he might understand all too well.

(that’s another thing she can’t forgive saw for. bodhi never deserved the bor gullet.)

“Good. That’s – good.”

They sit in companionable silence for a few minutes. She watches as he flies, his hands steady when they’re normally shaky. This is where he belongs – at the helm of a ship. And the Rebellion gives him exactly that.

She hates to break the quiet, but the words slip out of her lips before she can stop them. “What happened? Back on Tamsye Prime?”

“I, uh – “ he pauses, clenches his hands in his lap. Jyn wants to reach out to soothe him, but doesn’t move. “I heard it all. Cassian turned his comlink on at the beginning and I came as fast as I could. You – you were already gone but Cassian – he was – “

He stops, takes a breath, continues. “I patched him up the best I could but I couldn’t – “ he turns to her. “I’m sorry I wasn’t quick enough. I should have been – “

This time she reaches out to him and steadies his hands beneath her own. “It’s not your fault, Bodhi,” she says firmly. When he opens his mouth to interrupt, she cuts him off.“You saved Cassian. Thank you.”

Thank you for helping him when I couldn’t.

“I’m just sorry you had to go through all of that.”

“Yeah,” Jyn breathes out, suddenly weary. She stands, claps a hand on Bodhi’s shoulder. “Yeah, me too.”

She makes it back to her room on her own, waving off both Chirrut and Baze as they stand to help her. Once there, she falls back on her cot roughly, resisting the urge to bury her head in her hands and cry.

She has a few moments to herself before Cassian bursts through the door. Her head shoots up by his sudden entrance, startled. His hair is mussed and his eyes are still half-closed from sleep. He offers her a small smile before covering a yawn with the back of his hand.

“Sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up,” he explains sheepishly, snagging the stool with his foot and dragging it closer to the bed. “I had only planned on getting an hour or two of sleep, but I, ah, slept a bit longer.”

Her mouth moves, but she has a hard time getting the words out. She swallows, “Don’t worry about it. You should still be resting.”

“I told Chirrut to wake me if anything changed, cariño ,” he replies, meeting her gaze so strongly she has to look away. This is not a dream. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” she whispers, picking a thread in her sheets with her ragged nails. She lets out a shaky exhale, then meets his eyes. He looks alarmed to see that they’re filled with tears. “Cass. You’re real…right? This isn’t – this isn’t a dream. You’re really here.”

Immediately he wraps his good arm around her shoulders, bringing her to his chest. She clutches the front of his shirt, trying to choke back her sobs. “I’m here, Jyn,” he murmurs, pressing kisses into her hair. That only makes her cry harder. “I’m real. This isn’t a dream. I’m here.”

“You were dead,” she chokes, the front of his shirt growing wet from her tears. He shushes her, rubbing circles on her back. “I heard you go down and – and you were dead. You were dead and I – I wanted to die too – “

“I am so sorry,” he murmurs, his voice cracking. “I am so sorry, Jyn.”

“S’not your fault. It’s mine – if I hadn’t – “ Hadn’t what? Pissed off a bunch of Imperials? “You got shot and – Stars, Cass, that shouldn’t have happened.”

“You didn’t shoot me, Jyn. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry we couldn’t get you out sooner, that you had to go through – go through all that because of it.” She can hear the anger in his voice, but it’s not at her.

Eventually, she pulls back, wiping her tears and snot off her face with the back of her hand. “I ruined your shirt,” she mutters, wringing her hands in her lap. A broken laugh wrenches it’s way out of her throat. “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he says, grabbing her hands. His thumb rubs back and forth on her skin. “I have plenty of shirts back on Hoth.”

She reaches for him, tugging him upward. “Come here.”

“I’m not sure there’s enough room for the two of us,” he chuckles, but complies, sliding in next to her. His bad shoulder is propped up against the wall and he wraps his good arm around her shoulder, then presses a small kiss to her forehead. She curls into his embrace. “Your fever’s gone down. That’s good. I need to check your arm again, if that’s all right.”

“That’s fine,” she replies, then watches with poorly hidden interest as he peels back the bacta patch. There’s four holes right in the center of her bicep, too neat and precise for them to be from a blaster. They’re not bleeding, but the skin around them is red and cracked.

Cassian hisses between his teeth, rubbing his thumb over the wounds gently. Jyn flinches and tugs her arm free, cradling it to her chest.

“It’s still infected,” he says as she smoothes the bacta patch back over it. “We don’t have the supplies to treat it on the ship. I’ve given you something to get your fever down, but – “

“Thank you,” Jyn replies softly. “I’ll be fine, Cassian.”

He gives her a pained glance. “Did they…they tortured you.” He states it so evenly, but Jyn can see the hurt in his eyes.

“Not much. I’m fine.”

“Jyn, don’t – “ he pauses, clenches his jaw. “Don’t lie. Not to me.”

She takes a deep breath, then releases it slowly. “Yeah. Mostly droids. I don’t remember a lot of it.” I remember too much of it.

Cassian’s grip tightens around her shoulder and she presses her face into his good shoulder, closing her eyes and struggling not to think about it. “I’m sorry, cariño. I should never have let them take you.”

The ridiculousness of his statement shocks her; she lifts her head up and lets out a startled gasp. “Cass, you – you were – “ You were dead. “There was nothing you could have done.”

“Could have gotten back up,” he mutters, pulling her back toward him.

“No,” she says. “No, you couldn’t have. You shouldn’t have – “ Survived. “The ‘trooper was aiming at your heart. How did you…?”

“Lucky for me, the ‘trooper that shot me had bad aim,” he says. “Shot a bit too high and just barely missed my heart. The only reason they didn’t come back and shoot me in the head was because you tackled their commander and it took all four of them to knock you out. So – thank you, for that.”

Jyn offers a small smile at that, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. The rage and loss she had felt at that moment are two things that she never wants to feel ever again.

“By the time Bodhi got there, you were already gone, but he managed to patch me up enough to get me back to base. I spent a week in a bacta tank, and another in the medbay until they released me, then we left to come find you. We, uh, might be in a bit of trouble when we get back.”

“Oh?” she says, raising an eyebrow.

“We didn’t really get permission to leave,” he replies with a slow, tired smile. “But none of us were going to leave you behind.”

“We have to live up to the name of Rogue One somehow,” Jyn says. Gently, she unwraps herself from his arm and pulls him close to her instead. Cassian rests his head on her chest and she runs her fingers through his hair, careful not to touch his bandages snaking up his neck. “It’s good to have you back, Cassian.”

“I’m glad we found you,” he whispers, eyes closing. It’s not long before his breathing evens out, his face calmer than she’s seen it in a long while. She smoothes down the hair at the nape of his neck, wondering the last time he’s slept properly. He looks awful, unshaven with dark bags underneath his eyes. He needs to rest if his shoulder is going to heal properly.

Despite all the sleep she’s gotten already, Jyn feels her eyes begin to flutter shut. She doesn’t fight it, placing her head on top of his and closing her eyes.

When she wakes up hours later still holding Cassian, she smiles, brushing away a small tear that had fallen unknowingly. This is real, she realizes, closing her eyes again and inhaling deeply. This isn’t a dream. You’re both safe.

And, for the first time since Tamsye Prime, she finally feels at peace.

[reylo-rebelcaptain-starwarstrash]

Children of the Rebellion

(So it’s currently 2:36 AM and this plot bunny won’t leave me alone. Enjoy child!/ slight RebelCaptain ft. Leia <3)

    The oldest known weapon that could be called a blaster was used by an ancient droid of an unknown model employed by the Rakatan Infinite Empire. This weapon was considered to be extremely up-to-date compared to the blasters -

“Pew pew pew!”

Cassian sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. He stopped reading, unable to focus with such loud ruckus.

“Buab buab buab!”

“I shot you first!”

“I stopped your bullets!”

“Not even!”

“Yes even!”

“No.”

“Uh, yes.”

“Jyn!”

“Leia.”

Cassian didn’t even need to look up to know who the perpetrators were. There were only two people on the whole damn planet with such little consideration of their surroundings: Erso and Organa.

They were on the cusp of six or seven or maybe even five. He had long since forgotten how to calculate physical age when anyone associated even remotely with the rebellion was forced to mentally be much older than was appropriate.

The girls’ guardians’ names were on the tip of his tongue. But he laughed at himself. If he called Saw over, he would just chuckle and give the girls actual power packs to go with their guns. Cassian didn’t need to be worrying about particle beams. And if he called Bail over, Bail would just gently give them pats on the head: he loved the girls too much to ever really do anything.

“Leia,” Jyn whined, as the other girl tidied up her buns.

“Jyn,” the princess mocked.

Their voices vaguely grated on Cassian’s nerves. Was it too much to ask for some silence? Surely an hour wasn’t exactly outrageous.

Erso’s carefree laughed echoed in the empty hangar, startling Cassian as he observed the pair more carefully. “Look, L. If you stop in the middle of a fight, you’re dead!” she shrieked as only a child can.

Cassian froze, chills skimming across his back at her words.

“Pfft. Jyn, please. If I were in a stormtrooper disguise, I wouldn’t be fixing my hair, now would I?” She stuck her tongue out in victory.

Jyn shrugged, letting the comment roll off her. “Just don’t fix your hair when you take your helmet off. Otherwise, they’ll be able to tell you’re a phony so fast, you couldn’t even call for help!”

Leia gave a slow nod picking up her empty blaster from the ground. “Fine, fine. Whatever, you always win. Next time, I’ll one up your logic,” she threatened, tackling Jyn to the ground. 

They spoke so casually of war and death. Too much so.

The girls went on to wrestle, their taunts and insults sometimes hitting Cassian a little too close to home. 

He ran his palm against the worn book cover. How had these children retained such fragile innocence? It was beautiful, Cassian realized in wonder and bitterness and sorrow. He was slightly overwhelmed. His heart ached for those girls. And himself. And all the other children who would have to grow up too fast, too soon, for an inkling of hope for a different tomorrow.

He knew Guerrera had already sent Jyn on several stealth-murder missions. Her small size made her perfectly undetectable. He also knew Organa had taught Leia so much that she had already stepped up and given orders when situations occurred too quickly for everyone to comprehend.

Their innocence, their childlike wonder, had every right to be shattered. Yet the girls clung on tightly, clutching with dainty hands not fit for rebellion but conditioned so.

Their childhood had been stolen, swindling from underneath them so suddenly, so disgustingly, that they hadn’t yet noticed.

Cassian wished he could be so lucky. As he watched the girls get up and senselessly argue while walking away, he shook his head.

They were going to go places, even if they didn’t know it yet. Their greatness was written in the stars, kyber crystals waiting to be born of their legacy.

Jyn felt eyes boring into her back and scrunched her nose. “Who was that weirdo hanging out in an empty hangar?”

Leia shrugged, twirling her blaster and popping her gum a little too loudly. “I dunno. Someone recruited him some time ago? How long you think he’ll last? I’d give it a few more weeks before some sort of Imperial offs him.”

Jyn glanced back at the boy, his eyes so old and wise she felt two inches tall. No person should ever have to see so much. She turned to Leia thoughtfully. “You know, I have a feeling he’s going to make something of himself. Something about his soul... He’ll change the rebellion,” she mused quietly.

Leia started laughing loudly, pushing Jyn’s shoulder. “Yeah. And I’m going to become a general one day! Sometimes, you just run your mouth and use big words to sound like your smarter than me or something. But that’s okay. I’m still your friend.”

Jyn gave the princess a little smirk. “Not if I beat you! Last one in has to brush Wookie fur at the infirmary!” She took off running, sparing a quick glance at the lonely soul.

He had a ghost of a smile, and she finally noticed the youth he wore like an uncomfortable second skin. He wasn’t much older than she.

Maybe... Maybe if they both closed their eyes and concentrated hard enough, they could pretend they were just two kids, cocooned by ignorance and innocence and awe.

And maybe... Maybe they would find each other again.

When all of this was over.

In another lifetime.

Well, one can only hope.

FIN

(I HAVE BEEN SO OBSESSED WITH THIS HEAD CANNON OF MINE> I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO ANYMORE. PLS SEND HELP)

[rebsrising]

Come home to me

For @rebelcaptainprompts #13 - Desperation. 

Rating: Mature

Words: 2877

Summary: Despairing at the news of the second Death Star, Jyn volunteers for the mission to ensure its destruction. Unsure of how this all will end, she and Cassian spend the night clinging to each other.

So rebelcaptain smut finally happened. Thank you to @jenniferjuni-per for the encouragement and to her and @silverystarrysilence for the beta! You’re the best!

read it on ao3. 

Glowing red, it hovers before her once again. Different, of course, this time without her father’s fatal flaw. And yet it was still his work, in some small way. The knowledge of it pushes down on Jyn’s shoulders as if gravity has shifted around her, threatening to crush her. Her ribs ache as she tries to breathe, tries to focus on the debrief about the new Death Star.

If the others were there, she might have been able to react better.

Chirrut would tell her calmly about the ways of the Force, how everything is how it’s willed to be. Baze would lay a hand on her shoulder, letting her know in his silent way that he was by her side. Bodhi would look at her with those big soft eyes and hug her as much as a comfort to her as to himself.

And Cassian. Cassian would have been there, right by her side, leaning his head towards hers, face soft and comforting but eyes promising they would fight. He would have known exactly how she felt, would have found the words to say, or would have known to say nothing at all.

But the others aren’t there. The Battle of Hoth has sent them scattered amongst the stars. Her family, though whole in spirit, is fractured, and she is alone.

So instead she breaks her hand punching a metal wall, and then retreats within herself.

A hint of solace comes in the form of rumors that creep their way through the hallways like vines on ancient stone. Princess Leia has a plan.

Technically, Jyn shouldn’t know about Operation Yellow Moon. It’s classified and still in development. Whispers of it continue to reverberate around base though, and she knows she has to go. The mission to distract the Empire from the gathering of the Alliance’s fleet will be dangerous, but necessary if the Alliance is ever going to have a shot on Endor. Jyn has to be a part of it, no matter the risk. She has to.

She approaches Leia, states her case in her usual blunt manner. At first the young woman looks as though she’s going to say no. Jyn had expected as much. She’s ready to put up a fight. But then their eyes meet over the council table, and Jyn is reminded of a lifetime ago when she stood by Saw’s side and locked eyes with the child princess as she stood beside her father. Back then, she had felt so different from the little royal girl dressed all in white. Now she sees their similarities reflected back in Leia’s eyes, one a determined velvety brown and the other a hard fervid green. The same fire, the same need. They are two sides of a coin - one of them bears the weight of the destroyed, the other the weight of the destroyer. Both need some sort of absolution and this, the final Death Star, this could be it.

“I need you to understand the peril of this mission - not only to our own lives, but to civilians as well.” Leia’s words are calculated, her face controlled.

“I do.”

“Then we could use you.”

The day before they’re set to leave, Cassian lands back on base. Jyn wonders then, briefly, would she have signed up if she had known he’d be with her so soon? The answer forms in her mind before she can finish asking the question. His presence, though comforting, wouldn’t change anything. Even he would not quell the desperate demand that courses through her veins. No words or caresses could silence it. She must move, fight, act. Only then can she find peace.

She hopes he’ll understand. In some way at least, she knows he will. His own words echo in her mind the way they did in the hangar.

“Everything we did would have been for nothing. I couldn’t face myself if I gave up now.”

Jyn’s steps echo on the metal floor as she makes her way to greet him, moving quickly, no concern or reservation able to slow her down when she knows he’s so close to her. The council called him into an intelligence meeting before he even landed, and she assumes it must be about the operation. She doesn’t want him to find out from someone else, but she knows she won’t have enough time to fully explain herself.

“I joined the mission,” she tells him simply, as soon as he’s near her.

He’s smiling at her as their hands brush together in the hangar bay. The smile falls from his lips when he sees the look in her eye, the furious need there attached to something he does not yet know. He’s searching the endless green pools for answers when a lieutenant comes to escort him to the meeting. He’s late. He brushes her cheek softly with his thumb, trying to give what little comfort he can, before he finally has to pull away.

Those fierce eyes follow him as he goes, the need growing stronger with each step he takes away from her.

——

Cassian flattens his hands out on the table before him, the force straining his fingers as he listens to Princess Leia present the mission plan. She’s good at this, he thinks, not for the first time. Her words are clear and succinct, but heavy enough to fully convey the risk of the mission. She’s on the team herself, and her description of the chance they have is passionate, showing she really believes in what they can accomplish.

“These hyper-receivers will send the Empire chasing our signal to the Corva system, opening up our attack on Endor. That’s the best chance we have to take down the Death Star,” Leia explains. “Nunb will pilot us, and the rest of the crew will be made up of myself, Aleri, Lokmarcha, Antrot… and Erso.”

Leia’s eyes flick to Cassian’s face as she says Jyn’s name, and he’s grateful for the warning she’d given him, however small. He’s able to keep his response controlled, bite back any emotion from flashing on his face.  

Something tugs at his gut, heavier than any notion that’s nestled there before. Not dread, but real terror. His fingers swipe across the table as he clenches his hand into a fist, knuckles tightening until they’re white. More than just fear, he realizes he’s angry. Not at Jyn. He understands what drives her not only in this mission but every mission. He sees that drive mirrored in his own face everyday. No, Cassian was angry at Darth Vader, the emperor, the whole damn galaxy for making this brave, stubborn, wounded woman risk her life over and over again, give everything she has, sacrifice time and time again - all in the name of some distant chance at a better future, if not for herself, then for those who will come after her.

The odds are no worse than Scarif, he knows, except for one glaring difference - he won’t be going with her.

——–

When he finds her in her room later, his face is taut, deep creases hardening around his eyes and mouth.

“I had to.” The words are whispered, but he hears the conviction behind them.

“I know,” It’s sincere, but broken. He takes a breath, shaky. “I can’t go with you.”

“I didn’t expect you to.”

His eyes finally meet hers, and she sees the pain buried deep within the shrouded brown. She realizes then that he wants to go with her. Even after all this time, she’s still getting used to that.

He holds her tightly as they fall asleep that night, as if he’s afraid she’ll slip through his fingers.  

The absence of his weight wakes Jyn, the space beside her too empty and cold for her to continue sleeping in peace. She opens her eyes to see him sitting at the edge of the bed, feet on the ground and head in his hands as they rest on his knees.

Rising up, she shuffles towards him, placing a hand lightly on his bare shoulder. Cassian lifts his head from his hands but doesn’t turn to her. It’s then that she notices the tightness in his shoulders, like he’s trying to still them from shaking.

“Cassian,” she breathes, trying to find the words to soothe him, but none come to her.

He grasps the hand from his shoulder, brings it up to his face so his lips can brush soft as a feather over her knuckles. Burying her face into his shoulder, Jyn threads her other arm around his waist and presses as close to him as she possibly can. If she can’t comfort him with words, this will have to do.

“Just come home,” he whispers. The words are strangled. He knows better than to ask, knows she can’t control it, but he can’t stop the plea from spilling over his lips.

He turns to her slowly, eyes searching, desperate for what they both know she can’t give him.

“Please, just promise me you’ll come home.”

“I will. I promise,” Her voice is as desperate as his own. It’s not exactly a lie, but it might as well be. They both know she can’t promise something like that. Neither of them can. They’ve had so many nights like this before a mission, and they’ve never asked for promises before. But something is different this time. Something has broken. A wall has come crashing down between them, scattering pieces into the openness left in its place. They cannot caution themselves as they normally do, can’t hold back in any way.

They stare at each other for a moment, eyes locked. He’s afraid he’ll ask her for everything, and even more afraid she’ll promise it all to him. So instead he cups her face and crashes his lips onto hers. Their mouths are fierce and searching against each other, seeking some sort of solace.

Cassian twists and pulls Jyn into his lap, her legs wrapping around his hips, before he pushes her back on the bed. Lightly, his fingers wisp over the exposed skin at her hip until his hands slide slowly up her shirt and over her abdomen. His hands are calloused against her body, but her skin is wounded just the same. His trigger marks trace over her blaster burns. Her bruised knuckles skim across his battle scars. Their fights mark their bodies, but moments like this are cemented on their hearts.

Moving deliberately, his hands ache to take in as much of her as he can, needing to feel her safe and sound in his grasp. He fingers the edge of her breast band before deciding simple contact is not enough - he wants to see her. His hands draw back down to bunch up her shirt and pull it over her head. A sound like a whimper escapes her mouth at the loss of contact, and she quickly threads her hands through his hair and drags him back down to her. He goes willingly.

He gets rid of her band without breaking from her this time, but pulls away from her lips to kiss his way down the length of her neck to her chest. His mouth finds her breasts, and he gives them the attention they deserve. Sighing into him, she threads her fingers through his hair, losing herself in the sensation. For now, at least, there is no impending mission, no Death Star, no weight on her shoulders. For now, there is only him.

Drifting up again, his eyes take in the sight of her. Her hair is down, fanning over her shoulders as her head tilts back. She is softer now, in these moments, because she does not have to be hard when she’s with him. He’s struck by how vulnerable she allows herself to be, and yet her strength still shines through undiminished. His breath catches as he wonders what he did to deserve a moment like this with her. The thought makes him pause, and she opens her eyes to gaze down at him. With a deep steadying breath, he lets every detail of the moment sink in - the small tug of a smile at her swollen lips, the overpowering affection in her bright green eyes, the velvety touch of her fingers floating slowly along his cheek.

He stays still until she raises an eyebrow at him, and he smirks in return. His nose trails a line down her stomach, the wisp of a touch, until he reaches the hem of her sleep pants. Inch by inch, he peels them off her body, placing light kisses as he goes. She lifts up her hips to help him, eager now. He makes his way back up achingly slow, taking his time as he caresses her bare legs. She sighs, out of both pleasure and impatience. His touch is fire on her skin, leaving an impression that burns even after he’s moved on.

Scraggly from a long mission, his beard scratches the soft skin along her inner thigh, painting the sensitive skin with streaks of pink. His breath is warm against her, and Jyn squirms at the feel, trying to marry her skin to his lips. Finally, mercifully, he places one final, firm kiss to the crevice of her thigh before his tongue finds her center. He moves his mouth in tight circles around her as his hands drift up to play with her clit. Jyn feels her body coil tightly as she arches up, bucking her hips closer to him, trying to absorb every sensation he’s giving her.

It is too much, and not enough. Some nights they can spend what feels like hours doing just this, but tonight she needs all of him. They need to be connected, to not know where one ends and the other begins. Her hands travel from the width of his shoulders down his back to his waist. She shoves his pants and underwear down, and he kicks them off completely. Her hands grasp him, and line him up with her.

She sighs as he enters her, hands gripping at his back, trying to bring him closer still. He winds his hand along her spine, fingers splayed over the breadth of her back, supporting them on one forearm as he presses her tighter up against him. They move together, finding a rhythm quickly. The pace increases with their need - a desperate desire to give each other everything. Their mouths meet again, breathless kisses as teeth pull on lips. Hands grip bare skin, pulling each other ever closer. He shifts and draws her up and into his lap, her knees settling beside his hips. They both moan at the change of angle.

“Jyn,” Her name escapes him, a prayer on his lips.

They wrap fully around each other now. His fingers grip the side of her ribs as hers spread across his back. They cannot get close enough.

His breath is hot on her neck, lips touching her ear.

“Come home to me, Jyn” he murmurs. “Come home.”

“I will” she gasps. “I will, I will, I will.”

They come together like they always seem to do and Jyn’s head curls into the base of his neck as she rides out the pleasure.

Once they catch their breath, his arms stay tight around her as he lowers them back on the bed. She lifts her hands up to hold his face, and he turns to place a kiss lightly on her palm. She has no more words to give him, so instead she holds his gaze.

In his eyes she sees her own despair, fear, and most importantly, hope, reflected back in them. This mission, and the impending fight against the Death Star, may be the greatest threat they’ll face. But if they win, it could mean the end of the war. The end of all their fighting and sacrifices. It could mean a future, for them, together. She falls asleep still staring at his eyes and the possibilities, good and bad, shining like constellations in them.

Morning dawns and Jyn wakes before he does, dressing for her departure before resting a hand gently on his shoulder above the covers.

“Cassian,” she whispers, the rising sun renewing her determination. “I have to go.”

He wakes, his eyes finding hers as soon as they open. The desperation has been beaten back, but there’s still a cold sadness that rests at the edge of the warm brown. He doesn’t ask for any promises this time, just kisses her softly before letting her go.

She keeps her promise, but she’d never pulled one from him. He’s gone when she returns several days later. This time she leaves for the battle on Endor alone, with no desperate hands to grip her tightly, no kiss before the siege. No one begs her to come back, to survive.

She does it anyway. As the dust of the Death Star rains from the sky, she learns no promise is necessary. In the darkness, a bright light grips her focus, drawing her in like a beacon. His face reflecting the fires of a victory celebration, his smile shining brighter than the suns in the sky. In the end, it’s him that comes home to her.