#mon mothma fanfiction

[silver-pieces]

escape

Pairing: Mon Mothma x librarian!gn!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Synopsis: In the hush of the library, a touch-starved Mon gives you her confession.

Warnings: 18+, smut (kissing, sexual thoughts, submissive reader), angst, fluff, forbidden romance

A/N: This is my first entry into Andor Bingo, created by @sw-andor​! The square I chose for this one is ‘guilt/touch-starved’ and damn if Mon isn’t perfect for that one? Beta read by the amazing @rescuethewretched​ who came at me with the Mon Mothma hype and the librarian!reader idea 🥰 This fic features mild Andor spoilers. Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics​.

The sounds of the city pierce through the contemplative hush of the library, signalling someone’s arrival as the doors unseal.

You look up from your novel and, saving your place, tuck it away beneath your desk. The sun is lower than you recall. During mid afternoon, when the hours seem to drift by, company is unexpected, but you stand from your desk ever ready to greet them.

A familiar silhouette lingers at the entrance.

“Mon?” Your eyes catch on her arms folded around her middle, clinging to herself. A strange, unsettling feeling comes over you, and you peer behind her, out on the street, for Lieda or her driver. “Are you... alright?” You’ve never seen her alone before.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she says putting on a smile, and she steps inside, letting the doors shut behind her. “I just...” she glances behind her, “needed to get away.”

She’s not telling you the full truth. “Did you walk here?” you ask, deciding not to push. She’s never been willing to speak much about her life outside these walls.

You notice the way her shoulders relax, her feet carrying her further into the library as her smile grows genuine. “I did. I thought I should enjoy the sunlight before I forget what it feels like altogether. So often we forget to savour what’s right in front of us.”

“Ah,” you chuckle. Tapping buttons, a holo flickers between you, scrolling by with the titles of various books for her to select from. “Perhaps some reading could help you escape?”

“Yes, that always seems to keep me grounded, doesn’t it?” Her smile widens. “Especially when you read it for me.”

Heat rises to you face. Words fail you, so you resort to a shy nod.

It didn’t always used to be like this. When she first met you, you already knew her daughter, Lieda, the young rich girl who dragged her father down here every week to borrow books on Chandrilan culture and traditions. Perrin usually sulked in a corner while she pored over the books. But when Lieda decided to bring her mother here for the first time, Mon Mothma had arrived, taken one look at you, and actually struck up a conversation.

You remember how nice she was, how charming, but most of all you remember the way she looked at you, like you were the only one in the room. You’d left the library that day with an irrational case of butterflies in your stomach.

And then she was back the next week, and the next, and you realised with a guilty sort of happiness that Perrin wouldn’t be coming back anymore. Mon, it would seem, had chosen to take over her daughter’s visits full time.

The progression of your relationship had unfolded so naturally that you hadn’t even noticed it was truly happening until you found yourself sitting beside her in one of the alcoves, a giant old book set on the table between you, and she said something that made you laugh. You were only inches away from each other, gravitating together in a way that just felt natural, her eyes, flicking down to your lips for a split second before she looked away.

Yes, poring over dusty books with you going on about ancient lore while she listens in pleasant silence has become a weekly pastime you’ve begun to look forward to.

“What are you in the mood for this time? We still have the final pages of the Tome of the Gargantuan to get through, if you’re interested.”

“That’ll do.”

“The usual alcove?”

“Please.”

Her shortness, while still pleasant enough, strikes you as odd. The concern inside you grows. Normally she... talks more - asks you about your day.

With a press of a button, you select the Tome from the list and turn to lead her through the shelves to your spot.

Her even footsteps sound behind you, muffled by the carpeted floor, and the hairs raise on the back of your neck in awareness.

It’s strange, having her here, alone. There’s a different sort of energy flowing between you, urging you to look back at her, to speak openly and honestly about how you feel. Like there are more important things for her to hear you say than the lore you read her when her daughter is around.

The alcove is one of many spread throughout the library. It sits tucked against the far wall - plush seating that curves around the table in the centre, with adjustable lighting, and a small window to see out into the city. You pause as you reach it, eyes trailing the name Mothma enscribed above the alcove in gold, delicate writing.

A hand closes around your waist.

Your breath stills as Mon slides past you to take a seat. Stars. Warmth spreads through you at her touch, and it’s like you’re anchored to the floor, unable to move or get out of her way. She only removes her hand from you at the last second to adjust herself into the nook, looking up at you, an eyebrow raised. “Admiring it?”

“Pardon?”

She smiles and gestures up to the inscription. “I think it turned out lovely, if a little over the top. I didn’t do it for the naming rights, you know.”

You nod. “I know.” And you do. It’s something you’ll never be able to repay her for.

Her family became a donor several weeks ago. You found out when, on Mon and Lieda’s next visit, they had shown up with a worker to make the inscription on the alcove wall. Your heart was in your throat when you realised, turning your gaze to Mon in shock and awe.

You saved us?

Yes, well, she looked down, a slight flush of colour in her cheeks, Lieda would miss this place terribly if it were gone.

Biting your lip, you slide into the nook alongside her and rest your elbow on the table, leaning forward to key in your reading access code.

The book loads up on the screen. You smile and glance beside you, at Mon. “You remember where we left off?”

“Something about a fire.”

“...and if there was any evidence, the fire destroyed it so completely it was never found again,” you read, then glance up at her again.

“That’s it,” she nods, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, and she looks down far too quickly.

“Mon,” you say, her name coming out of your mouth on instinct, but you’re worried for her. You take her hand in yours. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I - ” she exhales sharply, and smooths her other hand over the top of yours. And as she looks down, something in her changes.

You swallow.

She flicks her gaze back up to you, holding you in the seriousness of her gaze. “You know I’m in love with you, right?”

In love...? You blink. Her words echo through your mind. What happened to her today? You’re frozen in place, your mind going blank, unable to look away from her - this woman who says and does the most unexpected things. “I...”

Her eyebrows raise, and she turns away from you, withdrawing her hands. “Stars, that was incredibly inappropriate of me. I - I’m so sorry...” She gathers her skirts.

It happens before you realise what you’re doing - you take her by the shoulder and pull her back in her seat, and suddenly your face is only inches from hers. “Wait.”

She stares at you, a wild look in her eyes that you’ve never seen before. You search her eyes, unsure what to say, caught completely off guard. Her gaze flicks down to your lips, and you part them, but nothing comes out.

Then she surges forward and slants her mouth on yours, pulling you into her sudden, wild kiss.

You gasp into it, a flood of warmth rushing through your veins. Mon, kissing you. It doesn’t feel real. But your body responds on instinct, kissing her back as energy and desire rise within you.

You had thought about kissing her before now, entertained the occasional pleasant daydream, but nothing compares to the actual feeling of her lips on yours.

Her hands are all over you, pulling you closer, exploring your body in expert ways, clinging to you as though she’s afraid you might disappear. It’s blissful, allowing you to sink further into her touch as you lose track of anything else.

“Mon,” you breathe into her kiss.

She breaks away, resting her forehead against you, her eyes closed tight. “I’m sorry.” She kisses you again, slow and sensual. “I had a bad day, and I needed to see you.” Her lips move over yours, eliciting a groan from you. “You’re my escape.”

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” you ask, thinking of Perrin.

She brings a hand up, curling her fingers beneath your chin, holding your attention. “I am watched,” she begins, “every minute of every day. I know the risks.” She pulls you closer, past her face so she has access to your neck. “Which is why I walked here without my driver.” The words, spoken softly, purr over your skin.

You tilt your head back, eyes sliding shut.

Her breath fans over your pulse point, her nose brushing along your skin. “So I could have you alone for once.”

“Yes,” you breathe.

She’s seducing you, you realise all too late as she murmurs in your ear. “My sweet, innocent, librarian.”

“Mon.” Visions of sitting on her lap, bending over the table, of sliding down onto your knees, flash through your mind; overwhelmed by her fierce and sudden passion. “I love you too, you know. I’m yours.”

She stills, her hands coming to rest on your waist, her eyes seeking yours again. “And I’m yours.” She entwines her hand with yours, bringing it up to her mouth to kiss. A chivalrous act that has heat rising to your face. “Even when I have to pretend otherwise.”

You nod. “I understand.”

She looks down, and sighs, shaking her head. “My driver will be here shortly. I can’t stay.”

No. You search her eyes, willing her to not to go, but she’s already pulling away. 

“When will I see you again?”

Guilt flashes in her eyes. “With Lieda.”

“When will I see you again, alone?” you ask.

She hesitates, her hand gently squeezing yours like a promise. “I’ll make time.”

You believe her.

Before she can try to leave again, you pull her in for another kiss, slanting your mouth on hers and pouring all your unexpressed desires into her. You can’t help it; this is all too much at once, and you need more. She accepts it; remaining in place, her lips parting for you, allowing you to take the lead.

But the sound of the doors sliding open jolts you from the spell.

Her driver.

Mon pulls back, and, with a deep, mournful darkness in her eyes, strokes your cheek. “I will see you again soon.”

You feel like crying. Instead, you lean into her touch, cherishing the moment before it’s over. Your words come out a low, gentle prayer.

“Be safe, Mon.”

And then she’s gone.

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Andor

Sample Size: 636 stories

Source: AO3

[tsotf-fic]

♚ chapter 1 - when stars collide ♛

ii. birds of paradise

The Royal Family departed Cantham House for the Imperial Palace right as the Coruscant sun began to set. Within the speeder, nobody dared to speak under the looming shadow of Imperial surveillance.

Y/N leaned up against the transparisteel window, wistfully looking upon the planetwide city. Coruscant was unlike any other metropolis planet; as far as the eye could see, there were absolutely no traces of life that weren't artificially transplanted from somewhere else. To many, including the Organas, it served as a cold reminder of the effect humans had on the galaxy.

If planets were considered living beings, she pondered, Coruscant would certainly be considered a droid.

"Be careful not to smudge your makeup, dear," Breha said, breaking the silence and snapping Y/N out of her daydream.

To the untrained eye, Breha maintained an air of queenly confidence and serenity, but her family could tell she absolutely radiated with anxiety.

Bail gave her hand a gentle squeeze and smiled. "She'll be fine, my love. We all will."

Feathers rustled as Leia shifted uncomfortably in her dress. "I still have a bad feeling about this," she muttered under her breath.

The speeder landed on the platform just outside of the Imperial Palace, where a crowd of dignitaries, politicians, and socialites from all corners of the galaxy rushed to enter the party first. Each person seemed desperate to outperform the other with their custom-made costumes commissioned from the best designers in the galaxy. The costumes themselves included animals, historical and legendary figures, and various other symbols of planetary cultures.

Leia scoffed. "I bet the materials used to make those are worth more than entire planets in the Outer Rim!"

"I doubt anyone else here cares," Y/N replied, subtly gesturing towards a gaggle of visibly intoxicated politicians.

"Girls, please do not stare at your colleagues," Breha said under her breath with a fake smile plastered on her face.

Bail stifled a laugh as he watched none other than Representative Binks trip over the tail of his blarth costume. "How he manages to stay in power is certainly one of the galaxy's greatest mysteries," he whispered to Y/N and Leia, earning a glare from his wife.

"Perrin! This is a formal celebration, not an excuse for you to get drunk!"

Mon Mothma's husband stumbled out of the crowd. Sparkling, crystalline triangles jutted out from his outfit at all angles, and one could only assume it was meant to mimic the crystal cliffs north of Hanna city, albeit a very gaudy version.

"I jus' wanted to have a li’l fun before the party starts," he slurred, completely oblivious to his wife's anger at the spectacle he was causing. "It's a celebration! I'm celebrating!"

"Not like that," Mon retorted, practically dragging him by his collar. Whether intentional or not, her costume directly contrasted his with its organic, blossom-covered branches twisting elegantly around the lush green fabric of her dress. "If you plan on acting this way the whole night, don't even bother returning to the embassy!"

Most bystanders turned away in embarrassment as the Chandrilan senator berated her husband. Mon did her best to maintain her composure, but she was clearly on the edge of tears; it didn't help that Perrin's inebriated friends loudly tried to egg them on.

Breha and Bail exchanged sympathetic, knowing glances, almost as though they had an unspoken secret language–they were practically Lorrdians when compared to their Chandrilan counterparts.

Perrin wriggled out of his wife's grip and turned around to point an accusing finger at her. "And you wonder why your daughter hates you!" He hobbled off, leaving Mon standing there, flustered and humiliated. However, something about the way she quickly regained her composure told Y/N that she was happy to be rid of him.

Mon’s tear-pricked eyes lit up when she saw the apprehensive Alderaanian girl.

"Y/N, dear, how are you? My, you look so beautiful," she said, placing a hand on the side of Y/N's cheek, her face glowing with pride.

"It's so nice to see you, Auntie Mon! But I guess the situation requires that I refer to you as Senator Mothma," Y/N laughed.

"Oh, please, there's no need for that. People are already judging me for that little fiasco, so what harm would it do for us to drop a little formality?"

With that, the senator immediately drew in the younger woman for a tight embrace, albeit yielding enough to prevent their costumes from being crushed together. Y/N didn't know if it came from the flowers on her aunt's dress or a perfume on her skin, but something about the warm, delicate scent made her feel so calm, so at home. Perhaps it was just a reflection of its wearer's personality: gentle and elegant, with hidden strength beneath the surface, everything Y/N aspired to be. It pained her so much to see someone she held in such high regard be treated so poorly.

"We're here, too, you know," Bail's voice rang, interrupting their embrace.

"I figured as much, Your Highness," Mon playfully retorted. She pulled away from Y/N, giving her one last smile as she wiped the remnants of tears from the corners of her eyes, and went to greet her colleague. "It's always a pleasure to see the Royal Family."

After exchanging bows with the Viceroy and Queen of Alderaan, she turned to the young princess and her eyes lit up again, although not as bright as they were for Y/N.

"Ah! Matching costumes, how charming! I wonder whose idea that was." She turned to look at Breha, who let out an uncharacteristically loud laugh.

"What better way to compensate for our lack of costumes than by showcasing Alderaan's loveliest young ladies?" The queen responded, resting her hands on both girls' shoulders.

"I still think a costume would have suited you well, mother. You and father would have made for quite the pair of swans," Leia said with a tinge of sarcasm behind her voice as she patted her mother's hand.

"Well, perhaps you're right, but I'm afraid there are more pressing matters than us arriving at the ball as a flock of birds."

"I would have liked to be a bird," Bail chimed in, earning a chorus of laughter in response.

Y/N laughed along with the group, but something about the whole conversation felt stilted, awkward, especially considering how well they all knew each other. Perhaps it had to do with the discomfort of her being a mere noble in the presence of planetary leaders; as much as they tried to include her, she never truly fit in among them. They couldn't help that, though, none of them could. It was just the way things were. So, she continued to smile as she always did.

fanfiction by @kaleidoscope1967eyes

[eiramew]

“They’re children...” She whispers. “We were too.” “Does that excuse it?” He’s expecting her to somehow make it all his fault again, but instead she looks like she’s waiting for him to confirm what she already knows. "It's tradition."

A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall | Mon Mothma/Perrin Fertha - Rated M

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Weekly Relief ~Mon Mothma xFem Stripper!Reader

Strip/Sex Club with Mon Mothma

Mommy…Master List

Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, fingering, eating out, cheating, implied sex, etc…

Enjoy (;

The senate was eating Mon alive. Ferrin wouldn’t get off her back about literally everything; the fights were getting worse day by day. And Leida did everything she said not to do, only to antagonize her mother.

The woman just needed a break, for gods sake…

And where Mon ended up was in one of the cities night clubs.

She knew it was stupid and risky, but dear god did she need a night off…

She wore a veil/ hoodie like headdress to hide her face, but the rest of her outfit…

She was wearing an extremely low cut dress with a provocatively high thigh slit…

So, there Mon was, sitting uncomfortably in a night club, for the first time… She was told these places were supposed to be fun…?

“Would you like a dance?” you interrupted Mon’s tunneling of thought.

She looked up and lost her composure at the sight of you. You were wearing your signature black lingerie garter set.

“Um… I… Sure…” she stuttered out.

You smirked at the woman being caught off guard. You had noticed her the second she had walked in with her elegance. You nodded at her and began lap dancing on her. Mon tensed up a bit at this.

“Heyyy… It’s ok, relax…” you cooed into her ear, as you grinded lightly against her.

Your words helped Mon loosen up a bit.

She couldn’t deny how much you were turning her on. She could feel a pool of wetness staring to form in her knickers, as you were straddling her and rolling your hips to the music in the club. It seemed like in a flash the dance was over.

“That was… amazing…” Mon panted, her breathing erratic and her entire body aroused.

You blushed at her compliment and leaned over to her ear purring, “Well if you want, we can always continue this in a private room…”

“I… Yes.” Mon choked out immediately.

You chuckled at her reaction, and you gave her your hand.

“Follow me.”

She followed you to the private rooms. You set the woman down on the long, luxurious couch and locked the door

“I’m… I’m afraid a I can’t reveal my face…” Mon stuttered, almost trying to convince herself more than you.

You smirked, “I understand. Whatever your comfortable with.”

You came over to the woman and straddled her, swaying your hips in her lap.

“Is this alright?” You whispered into her ear.

You received a whimper and her hips bucking up to meet your heated core in response. You took that as a definite yes, moving to her exposed neck and marking it slowly. Mon moaned in response as you bit and sucked her collar bone while grinding down on her lap. You looked up and she saw your blown up pupils and you licking your lips…

Desire got the better of Mon…

“Fuck it.” She growled, ripping her veil disguise off her face and clashing her lips into yours.

The woman’s kiss was passionate and needy. It was sloppy and hurried. Before you could catch a full glimpse of her, she had brought her veil to eyes, tying it to against it.

“For safety precautions…” Mon whispered, her voice laced with dismay.

You chuckled at her tone, “It’s alright… I always liked a kinky woman…” you quipped back.

This made Mon blush.

She went back to kissing your lips. They were so soft and delicious. She hadn’t felt such passion in such a long time… The kiss turned hungry and lustful quickly.

“Fuck…” you groaned out, as the grinding on her lap was getting to your throbbing cunt.

“I know, love…” Mon moaned back, while slithering her hand down to your thighs.

She went lower and lower, but stopped at the entrance to your soaked knickers.

You mewled in response, causing Mon to chuckle.

Not being able to see anything only blew up your pleasure…

“What do you want, darling…? Hmmmm?” Mon purred into your ear lustfully.

“Fuck… God, I want your fingers inside me…” you moaned out.

Mon hummed with delight.

At your words she slipped in her middle digit into your aching pussy.

You threw your head back in pleasure, rocking your hips to meet her thrusts.

Mon added another finger, making you cry out in pleasure even more.

You were a moaning mess in the lap of Senator Mon Mothma…

And Mon couldn’t get enough…

She made you cum all over her fingers in minutes. You tried to muffle your cries in her shoulder.

You panted heavily as Mon helped you down from your high.

“Fuck…” you panted out, “Your turn?”

Mon’s eyes darkened with a whole new wave of lust at the thought. She guided you in between her legs, where you were kneeling on the floor, and she was on the edge of the couch.

“Please… fuck, please…” Mon mewled out in need.

“I… need to be able to see…” you hesitantly, yet desperately begged.

You wanted to see the woman who had just made you and the best fucking orgasm of your life…

Mon was so desperate at this point and lust was clouding her mind, she wasn’t thinking straight… Nevertheless, she removed the blindfold. You gawked at her presence.

Fucking Senator Mon Mothma was spread out above you, desperate to be fucked…

The thought spurred you on with hunger… Mon looked at you hesitantly for a minute, expecting you to completely change your mind…

But instead you dipped your head down and lapped your tongue through her soaked folds… Mom’s head was thrown back in pleasure and he lips let out strands of moans at your skillful tongue.

Her hips ground against your face desperately…

Her hand was tightly holding on to your hair…

Obscenities flowed out from her lips…

Pretty soon, you had brought the senator to her edge.

“Fuck… Darling, I’m gonna cum…” Mon moaned out.

“God, cum… please cum…” you begged her, face still full of her cunt.

And so Mon came all over your tongue, squirting her juices all over your face. You lapped her up greedily as she cried out in pleasure. You cleaned her up, helping her down from her high. Mon tried to control her erratic breathing after her first massive orgasmic high in ages.

She was stunned. And her face said it all. And you gleamed in pride.

“Same time next week?” You playfully teased her.

Mon looked at you to see if you were being serious.

“Sure.”

Now it was you who was breathless.

What the fuck had just happened??

Whatever it was, it was worth doing again…

You responded by one last peck to Mon’s lips, which she graciously reciprocated.

~~~

Mon Mothma Masterlist

[midnight-melancholiaaa]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Andor (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

  Relationships: Perrin Fertha/Mon Mothma, Perrin Fertha/Tay Kolma, Tay Kolma/Mon Mothma Characters: Mon Mothma, Perrin Fertha, Tay Kolma, Leida Mothma  

Additional Tags: Character Study, Introspection, Unreliable Narrator, perrin walks around his apartment feeling sorry for himself: the fic, Flashbacks, Unrequited Love, very complicated feelings about your wife, and the guy she may or may not be sleeping with, Backstory, perrin is a middle child, Metaphors, so many metaphors, References to Canon, a clinical dissection of a fucked up marriage. now starring, Alcohol, cannot be understated how present the alcohol is, Light Angst, moderately barbecued angst, fics that take A Turn, please please check desc/notes for content warnings, but i promise there is humour here too, let’s all laugh at space ted cruz, author has a questionable relationship with star wars swearing, perrin’s no good horrible very bad day, THE GIRLS ARE FIGHTINGGGGG, no i don’t know why it capitalised that tag, my beta: incredible. you’re going to superhell now

  Summary:

He swirled his vice and watched nectarine flickers flash sinuous through it, the way one would tilt a weapon and imagine the lick of the blade. Took a swig, relished the honeyed sting as it grazed down his esophagus like fingertips on skin.

//

With a final gulp, he drained it. “Tay,” he said. “Are you fucking my wife?”

 or

a hungover perrin does some soul-searching: a portrait in five acts. on insouciance, and the perks of self-immolation.

 TWs: i believe these count as fleeting allusions, but please be aware that this fic contains references to gambling, depression, disordered eating patterns and dissociation during sex. also, of course, copious alcohol.

[mostthingskenobi]

CASSIAN'S RECKONING - Chapter 19: The Hologram

CHAPTER SUMMARY: We finally learn why Jyn wasn't put on leave. It is not fun.

Thank you again to dear Adela for helping me with the Spanish/Kenari 💜

READ THE FIC ON AO3

THIS IS A WHUMPY FIC W/GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. PLEASE HEED THE TAGS ON AO3.

——————–

CHAPTER 19: THE HOLOGRAM

The next morning as Jyn walked to the intelligence ready room her head was full of Cassian, remembering how his body felt strong and solid against hers. Even after Tarkin’s torture, he still radiated strength.

What had he whispered to her in Kenari? Not knowing was driving her a little mad, sending her heart racing every time she thought about the husky words that had growled in the back of his throat.

She realized she was smiling like an idiot and forcefully relaxed her face, suppressing the giddiness that fluttered in her chest. Jyn’s mind needed to be sharp; meetings with Draven always contained a particularly annoying kind of stress. As she approached the Intelligence sector, she rolled her shoulders back before walking in.

Jyn was surprised to find a full room. She had expected only to speak with the general, but several officers, a team of analysts, and even Mon Mothma was present. Except for the holo table’s green glow the room was dark.

“Ah, Erso, there you are,” Draven said, signaling for the group to be silent and form up around the holoprojector. “Thank you for coming.”

Jyn nodded but didn’t say anything; she was still new to an organized military and didn’t have the patience to play along with their little formalities.

“Everything that is said in this meeting is classified,” Draven spoke loudly and clearly. “Whatever is discussed here today stays here. Understood?”

The room gave their consent.

“Lieutenant,” he said, speaking directly to Jyn, “the team standing here,” he waved at the collection of people surrounding the holo table, “has been tasked with analyzing Commander Andor’s interrogation.”

Apprehension gripped her instantly. She didn’t know what she’d expected from a meeting with Draven, but this hadn’t been it.

“They’ve found some troubling information.”

The general paused but Jyn couldn’t think of a single polite response so she kept her mouth shut.

Draven soldiered on. “Did you ever have any interaction with Grand Moff Tarkin?”

“Excuse me?” she blurted out in shocked artlessness.

The entire room stared at her, waiting for an answer.

She almost wanted to laugh. What would a gutter rat like her have to do with Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin? “Of course not,” she finally said, providing a reply she thought should have been obvious.

“Did your father?”

“How would I know?” she snapped.

“You have no memories of him meeting with your father when you were a child?”

“This is absurd!” she scoffed.

“Jyn,” Mon Mothma said gently, “you’re not under suspicion. Please trust that there is a reason for these questions.”

Though she wanted to believe Mothma, Jyn also recognized she had very little recourse; refusing to answer her superiors’ questions could ultimately make her life much harder. “No,” she said, repressing her anger, “from what I personally remember, I never saw Tarkin with my father. When I was a child, I didn’t even know who Tarkin was, so if my father did have dealings with him, I didn’t know it.”

Draven looked to Mon Mothma who nodded once. He turned back to Jyn. “We have something we’d like to show you.”

Dread took hold of Jyn, tension blooming across her chest and abdomen; she fought to suppress the shaking that had started in her hands and shoulders. She knew in her gut she didn’t want to see whatever Draven had in store.

“It’s upsetting, so please prepare yourself.”

How? she thought. How do I prepare myself?

The holoprojector flared to life and a bluish hologram of Cassian appeared in the center of the table.

Jyn couldn’t keep a pitiable gasp from escaping her throat.

He hung from his wrists, bare feet hardly touching the floor. Blood ran down his face and arms while he struggled to breathe. Tarkin was at the rebel’s side, snarling into his ear, “What is the girl’s name?” Cassian could only gasp in pain. Tarkin brutally ripped the young man’s head back by his hair. “Her name. Now.”

Cassian was stretched so far back he could scarcely catch his breath. “I don’t…” His voice shook as he struggled to find the words. “I can’t…”

A death trooper stepped into the image, blocking most of Andor from view. Jyn saw the glint of an unsheathed blade in the trooper’s fist and she clasped a shaking hand over her mouth to keep in a sob. The trooper’s body hid his actions, but whatever he did made Cassian scream in a way that brought bile into Jyn’s throat.

“Tell me who the girl is,” Tarkin demanded again.

“¡No puedo!” Cassian suddenly shouted.

Surprise registered on the Grand Moff’s face. “What language is that?” he asked, turning to the IT-O interrogator droid.

“A derivative of Kenari.”

Tarkin grabbed Cassian’s jaw with his free hand and tightened his grip on the rebel’s hair with his other. “You will answer in Basic.”

A sound escaped Cassian’s throat that reminded Jyn of a whimpering puppy.

“Again,” Tarkin said to the death trooper.

“¡No!” Cassian writhed, twisting away from the blade. “¡Se llama Jyn Erso!” he choked out in a barely coherent slur. “Jyn…Jyn Erso.” His chest made a horrible wheezing sound.

Jyn squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that spilled down her cheeks.

When had she started crying?

She turned away as the hologram continued. She couldn’t watch anymore.

“Did you say Erso?” Tarkin’s voice had become intrigued. “Andor, answer me.”

Cassian only moaned.

Jyn ran from the room, bursting into the antechamber and vomiting into the nearest trashcan. She wiped her face and stumbled into the corridor gasping, moving away as fast as she could from the nightmare she’d just been forced to watch. No air reached her lungs despite how hard she heaved. She turned into a more secluded sub-corridor and pressed face-first into a corner, covering her head with her arms as her gasps finally turned into sobs. Her brain could not process what she’d just seen; instead, all the pain and fear she’d been carrying for Cassian suddenly began to suffocate her.

She had no notion of how long she stood there; her awareness was completely internal, overwhelmed by the storm swarming in her chest. Jyn had seen terrible things in her life, unthinkable things. And she’d been no stranger to the Empire’s cruelty—Wobani alone was enough evidence of their ruthlessness to last a lifetime. But seeing these realities collide in Cassian was more than she could stomach. Not because he was pure or irreproachable, but because he was so self-possessed, because he was strong and because he reached for others when they lost their grip. He found her in the crumbling temple on Jedha, guiding her to safety; he forced her to escape from Eadu when he could have easily left her behind; he appeared at the top of the citadel on Scarif even though he was so injured he could barely walk. Cassian always came back for her.

I let him down, she railed against herself. I wasn’t there when he needed me.

The thought of the Empire torturing him simply to learn her name made Jyn want to vomit again.

Her strength drained away, her nails digging into the wall to keep her upright, when she heard a confused voice.

“Jyn?”

Cassian stood a few paces behind her.

She tried to speak but a strange croak came out instead of words; she could do nothing but tremble and gulp for air.

He instantly closed the distance between them, cupping her cheek and stooping down. “What’s happened?” he asked, his eyes full of worry.

She was too ashamed to meet his gaze. Her body shuddered as tears continued to stream down her face. Her brain struggled to reconcile the broken man in the hologram with the strong friend who stood before her.

Cassian’s voice softened. “Jyn?” He lifted her chin; when their eyes met, she began to cry harder. She was clearly too upset to speak so he tucked her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. “I’ve got you,” he whispered—their secret comfort language.

She pressed her palms flat against his chest, desperate to feel him solidly under her hands as she breathed against his throat. “You’re OK,” she sniffled, trying to root herself in his flesh and blood.

He was not exactly certain what she meant, but his keen instincts gave him a pretty good idea. “I am,” he reassured her.

“Lieutenant?”

Jyn didn’t dare move. One of Draven’s aides stood nearby but she was too embarrassed to face him. “What is it?” she asked, her head still tucked into Cassian’s chest.

His voice was apologetic. “General Draven asks you to please return to the ready room.”

“Tell him I’m coming.” She tried to sound calmer than she felt. “I just need another moment.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” The man turned and retreated up the corridor.

Cassian’s brain worked fast, connecting succedent data. “You already had your meeting with Draven?”

Jyn wrapped her fists into his jacket and held tight, fighting to get herself under control. “Technically, I’m still having it.”

He studied her, resting his lips on the top of her head—she smelled like warm amber and a rare flower, and Cassian was instantly reminded of falling asleep in her pillow last night.

“They showed you something,” he said quietly, “didn’t they?”

After a long pause she nodded.

“Something about you?”

When she nodded again, she felt Cassian’s chest contract under her hands.

“I’m sorry,” his voice was barely more than a whisper.

She finally forced herself to look him in the eye. His expression was full of guilt and she couldn’t stand it. “Don’t apologize to me,” she said firmly. “You did nothing wrong.” She hugged him tightly, pressing herself against his chest again, and he responded in kind, his arms encompassing her completely.

“I’m OK,” she whispered. “I’m OK.”

Cassian could tell Jyn was trying to convince herself.

“We’re OK.”

The PA system squawked and made them both jump. “Lieutenant Erso, please return to the ready room.”

“Wow,” Cassian snorted, “they really want you back.”

“Draven is a professional idiot,” Jyn muttered, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. She’d finally calmed and was trying to find a way of apologizing to Cassian.

He wanted to ask her questions, to find out exactly what upset her so deeply, but he couldn’t retrigger her, not when she clearly needed to command her emotions and get back to work. Instead, he placed his hand gently on her cheek before brushing some hair out of her eyelashes. “Come find me later.”

His touch soothed her further. She nodded her agreement. “As soon as I can get away.”

“You better go before they get mad.”

“They’re always mad,” Jyn scoffed as she let go of him.

He watched her disappear around the corner, flooded with a mix of emotions he found unsettling.

——————–

By the time Jyn returned to the ready room she had managed to slam her emotions into submission. She stared at Draven with hard eyes.

“I’m sorry to spring that on you,” the general said with uncharacteristically blatant sympathy.

“Why show me at all?”

“We thought it important you see with your own eyes that you’ve been compromised.”

“That’s a bit of an extreme take, don’t you think? Being an Erso has always had its risks. The Empire knowing my name doesn’t change anything. I can still do my job.”

“You’re right, to an extent.” His chin jutted up, evaluating her reactions. “I wasn’t sure you’d take our word for it if we simply told you. You’re not exactly trusting.”

“You’re not exactly truthful.”

The general flashed a wry smile. “Point taken.” He instantly returned to business. “We showed you the hologram for a reason. I have an assignment for you. You’re not going to like it but you’re going to do it anyway.”

Why is he always such a bastard?

“I want you to analyze Andor’s interrogation. We showed you this small segment of footage firstly so it wouldn’t catch you off guard while you work, and secondly to make you aware of Tarkin’s fixation with you.”

Jyn stared at him for a long while, disgusted beyond words. “No,” she finally said. “I won’t do it.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

Mon Mothma waved a lithe hand at Draven to silence him. “It’s a horrible thing to ask of you,” she said gently, looking directly into Jyn’s eyes. “I know Cassian is your… friend. But that friendship also gives you insight the rest of us do not have. You can read his body language, understand small or private references; you might spot something the rest of us have missed.”

“I can’t,” Jyn replied, shaking her head and even taking a step back. “It feels like a betrayal of trust.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Draven offered. “You cannot discuss your analysis with Andor until we’ve reviewed it, but you don’t have to keep the nature of your assignment a secret from him.”

“Oh, really?” Jyn mocked. “And how is that conversation supposed to go?”

“You can check your sarcasm at the door, Erso,” Draven said, finally having enough of her attitude. “You’re an officer in the Rebel Alliance and these are your orders.”

“I don’t want to watch this,” she blurted out, unable to hide the desperation in her voice.

“No one wants to watch this,” he said sharply, silencing her. “Every person in this room has a connection with Andor. He’s a friend, a colleague, a team member. He’s a good man, and every last one of us hates this recording.”

Jyn didn’t doubt Draven’s sincerity.

“Your insights could help protect the Rebellion,” Mothma said. “There’s always a chance that a person under duress may inadvertently divulge information. We would like you to keep an eye out for anything potentially compromising, even if it’s small. No detail left unturned.”

“Plus,” Draven continued, “we would like your opinion on Tarkin’s fascination with you.”

“Isn’t it because my name is Erso?”

“Tarkin didn’t know your name until Andor revealed it. You’ll see in the recordings that he’s repeatedly hounded about your identity.”

Jyn’s brow pulled together. She really didn’t care about Tarkin; her real worry was what Cassian would think if he knew she was watching the most vulnerable moments of his life. “I don’t want this assignment,” she tried again to refuse. “You have far more qualified analysts right here.”

Draven reached the end of his compassion. “Either you do your job or we’re done. We won’t bother wasting resources by throwing you in the brig. I’ll kick you off this ship and you’ll never come back. Do we understand each other?”

Jyn knew that he really meant he’d separated her from Cassian and the rest of Rogue One. For a moment she considered calling the general’s bluff, but, in all honesty, she figured Draven would actually make good on his threat. She quickly decided disobeying orders wasn’t worth the risk of losing her found family.

“There’s a considerable amount of footage for you work through.” He turned to an aide. “Get her set up as soon as we’re done here.”

“You’re making me start straight away?” Jyn asked in disbelief. This day had not remotely gone how she’d hoped.

“The sooner you start, the sooner you finish. It’s going to take you days, so get going.”

She stared daggers at him but held her tongue. Jyn didn’t hate Draven; she knew he was doing his best in a nearly impossible job. But sometimes she really wanted to punch him in the face.

“That’ll be all,” he said with finality.

Draven’s aide came forward and led Jyn out of the room.

——————–

END NOTES

NEXT CHAPTER IS CALLED “THE DIVIDE” - How will things be with Rogue One now that Jyn has started her horrible assignment?

Thank you for reading!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are very welcome!

Much love!

——————–

READ IT ON AO3- Kudos and Comments Welcome :-)

READ CHAPTER 1 “The Razor”

READ CHAPTER 2 “The Scythe”

READ CHAPTER 3 “The Cold”

READ CHAPTER 4 “The Expendable”

READ CHAPTER 5 “The Truth”

READ CHAPTER 6 “The Detritus”

READ CHAPTER 7 “The Salt”

READ CHAPTER 8 “The Power”

READ CHAPTER 9 “The Betrayal”

REACH CHAPTER 10 “The Ruse”

READ CHAPTER 11 “The Reprieve”

READ CHAPTER 12 “The Ghosts”

READ CHAPTER 13 “The Redemption”

READ CHAPTER 14 “The Spoils”

READ CHAPTER 15 “The Interrogation”

READ CHAPTER 16 “The Rogues”

READ CHAPTER 17 “The Absolution”

READ CHAPTER 18 “The Reach”

READ CHAPTER 19 "The Hologram"

READ CHAPTER 20 “The Divide”

READ CHAPTER 21 “The Cost”

READ CHAPTER 22 “The Fallout”

READ CHAPTER 23 “The Wounds”

READ CHAPTER 24 “The Hand”

READ CHAPTER 25 “The Heart”

READ CHAPTER 26 “The Beginning”

[jawanaka]

The Traitor's daughter

Sliding in at the last minute for @andorappreciation week. Promt of the day is free day but tbh I've mainly been lazy.

One day, mother returns. As Coruscant falls to the New Republic, Leida Mothma has to face the mother who abandoned her long before the rebellion and reflect on the path that took them both here.

[silver-pieces]

mon mothma masterlist

All Mon Mothma fanfics. 18+ only.

Divider ❊ Guidelines ❊ Masterlist ❊ Taglist

Oneshots & Drabbles

Escape - 13/12/2022 ~ A touch-starved Mon confesses her feelings to you in the hush of the library. (Mon Mothma x librarian!gn!reader)

[brotherskywalker]

Nine new Star Wars fics by me!

I participated in the Star Wars Rare Pair 2023 Exchange, and somehow ended up writing nine several fics, and not all of them Luke/Leia! The majority of them are very short "treats" that I wrote for the BINGO challenge, but they were all fun so I wanted to share them here. Hope you enjoy!

Bridging the Distance (Luke/Leia/Han Solo), 3,389 words, Teen+ (written for Ekevka)

It was like trying to catch moths. It was like trying to hold onto water that kept flowing out of his hands. Luke and Leia belonged together, two halves of a whole, and yet they refused to admit it. Han was just privileged enough to be there to witness it, but he was also determined, he hoped, to be the one who could be the catalyst.

----

Sealed Another Fate (Luke/Lando Calrissian/Darth Vader), 477 words, Teen+ (written as a Treat for Skyrissian (ErinacchiLove))

The Rebellion has fallen and Lando fears all hope is lost...

----

A Light in the Dark (Luke/Leia/Darth Vader), 2,030 words, Mature (written for peasina)

Darth Vader shares in an unexpectedly delicious Tatooine slave gifted to him by his Sith Lord daughter, Leia Skywalker

----

The Truth In Her Eyes (Luke/Leia, Leia/Jabba), 538 words, Explicit (written as a Treat for maxlane)

Luke and Leia are captured by the Hutt crime lord Jabba, but while he may have his way with their bodies he cannot touch their souls.

----

Twin Treat (Luke/Leia/Poe Dameron), 687 words, G-rated (written as a Treat for PoliticalPadmé (magnetgirl)).

Luke brings home a treat to share with Leia. (AU where the twins run a Jedi Academy together, post-RotJ, pre-TFA, alternate timeline.)

----

Worth the Wait (Luke/Leia, Leia/Mon Mothma, Luke/Leia/Mon Mothma), 1,767 words, Explicit

Leia and Mon crash land on a planet near a black hole, where time passes fifteen years more slowly than the rest of the universe. When they are finally rescued, Luke is almost sixty, and Leia wants to make up for lost time... and introduce him to her new lover.

----

Useful After All (Leia/Darth Vader, Leia/Wilhuff Tarkin), 539 words, Teen+ (written as a Treat for Tantive404)

Tarkin informs Leia that the Emperor has found a use for her after all.

----

"Crossover With Star Trek" (Leia/Deanna Troi, Luke/Leia, Luke/Leia/Deanna Troi), 637 words, Explicit (written as a Treat for PoliticalPadmé (magnetgirl))

Deanna is in for quite the surprise when she attempts to seduce Leia.

----

A Little Extra (Luke/Leia/Boba Fett), 451 words, Explicit written as a treat for Sleepy_fan)

Luke and Leia look over the bounty hunter in the room.

[fandom-friday]

For my Foxiyo people Man on the Moon by @emeraldvsociety or emeraldteller86 on AO3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40821552/chapters/102287820

Eventual NSFW but it’s the perfect balance of fluffy and angsty and I just uuuugh I swoon!

Angst and fluff in a SLOW BURN?

Listen, I could go on and on and on about how much I love how creative fandom gets with Fox's personality since we get to see so little of it during the actual show, and it's honestly the same with Riyo (although she finally got more time to shine in TBB S2). But still, I'm making grabby hands at this, and I'm down for any fic with the tag "Ahsoka Tano is a little shit". AS SHE SHOULD BE. Thanks for the rec!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

[fictiongarden]

Palpatine has finally secured his place in the Republic Senate. When a crisis in Alderaanian space focuses the Senate on the issue of slavery in the Republic, Palpatine seizes the opportunity to make his name as a firebrand and a statesman, and to attempt to bring the Jedi under the direct control of the Office of the Chancellor. Along the way, he insinuates himself into the Valorum caucus, making himself an indispensable ally of an up-and-coming wave of altruistic Senators: Organa, Bel Iblis, and the freshman Senator Mon Mothma.

His political consultant/campaign manager is becoming a problem, however. For some three years now, she's tended his career and asked little of him. Now, Sereine wants something. And a depressed Master Dooku, disciplined by his Order, begins to believe his entire Jedi service may have been for naught.

[qulrikkek]

Chapter 21: Torn Apart

Summary:

Padmé comes up with a fabulous idea that involves Din Djarin and the destruction of the Death Star. Din has to let go of Grogu. Obi Wan and Padmé realize the price it will take them to turn Anakin back from the Dark side. Bo Katan knows Anakin is Darth Vader, she confronts Obi Wan about it. Dreams are shared, goodbyes are bittersweet and Windu feels a foreboding coming on his way...

General Rampart gives orders... Mon Mothma knows how to use them to their advange...

Notes:

The LONG FINALE is to begin next chapter!!!

[cissyenthusiast010155]

can you do part 2 for the perfect arrangement mon mothma

YES. Absolutely. Thank you so much for this request. I can’t get enough of Mon mothma.

The Perfect Arrangement? pt. 2 ~ Senator Mon Mothma xFem Reader

Link to Part 1

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, smut, eating out, love confessions, kissing

Enjoy (;

Perrin was on a business trip working and Mon had a last minute senate conflict.

So she had called you frantically to see if you could watch Leida.

Of course, you dropped everything the moment Mon called.

“Yea don’t worry about it, I’ll be over in 5 minutes.” you reassured Mon over the phone, as you rushed out of your apartment, not even taking the time to think that you were in your chill, sleepwear.

You got to her residence, and Mon rushed out thanking you dearly.

“I left you some dinner in the fridge, and Leids should be asleep in 30 minutes.” She spoke and then kissed your cheek before rushing off to the senate.

You blushed from the kiss, but nodded in response.

Watching Leida was a pretty simple task. Leida had gotten to know and like you over the many late nights of you watching her, so she put up almost no fight when it was time for her to go to bed.

The night ticked by slowly all the way till 1am, and still no word from Mon.

You sat on the elaborate couch, tired but you couldn’t shake a certain feeling of yours.

Your affection for Mon has grown. It had grown past something sexual. You could feel deep down that you were in love with her. And it was eating at you.

Next thing you know, it’s 2:30 and you hear the door click open.

Your head pops as Mon walks into the foyer, her step slowed down by her tiredness.

“Hey. Sorry that took so long. Would you like to just stay the night?” Mon offers while pouring herself a glass of red.

Indicating to the wine, asking you if you wanted some, you nodded and replied, “It’s alright. Leids is asleep. And I don’t want to impose.”

Mon made her way to the couch and rested herself next to you, “Nonsense. You’ll stay here.”

“Ok.” You whispered with a light blush erupting on your cheeks.

Mon smirked, handing you your glass.

“Mon?”

“Yes, darling?”

You took a deep breath before continuing, “I… I have something I need to confess to you.”

“Hmmmm?” Mon hummed for you to continue.

“I…” your tone became more hushed as you stumbled through your words, “I think I’m in love with you.”

You quickly looked away from Mon’s gaze.

Your mind was spiraling.

How was she going to respond? Would she throw you out? Would she laugh?

Then you heard a light chuckle.

“Look at me, love.”

You gulped and met Mon’s eyes, face red.

Her eyes were light and caring, not rejecting or harsh.

Mon put her glass on the nearby table, then she took your glass from your hands, placing it on the table as well, causing sparks from her touch to go straight to your core.

The Mon closed the gap, her lips lightly meeting yours. She pecked at your lips, asking for entrance into your wet cavern.

You whimpered, immediately allowing her access.

Mon hummed with delight as she slipped her tongue into your mouth.

As your kiss turned more passionate, Mon slowed it back down, making you whimper.

Mon chuckled at your neediness.

Then to your surprise, she got down on her knees in front of you.

Mon reached up and cupped your cheek, bringing your lips down to meet hers for a quick kiss, before she began rolling up your dress.

You squirmed as she teased your thighs with kisses and pecks.

“Mon…” you panted and whimpered, “please Mon…”

Mon met your glazed, edged eyes with lust and caring filled ones of her own along with a knowing smirk on her face.

Her fingers quickly hooked your underwear and threw it to the side.

Mon then lowered herself and took one lick through your folds, eliciting a guttural moan from your throat as sparks of pleasure washed over your body.

“More…! God please more…!” You pleaded.

Mon continued to tongue through your folds and eventually into your hole, eliciting more and more whimpers and moans from you.

Your eyes were rolling back and your back was arching from all the pleasure.

“Please Mon… please…” you whimpered, as you desperately rutted into her face.

“Please what?” Mon purred into your pussy.

You mewled in response, “God! Please make me cum…!”

Mon hummed with delight in response, and she added a finger circling your clit.

This threw you over the edge, bringing a crashing wave of pleasure and electricity through your body.

Mon lapped up all your juices, cleaning you up post-orgasm.

Afterwards, she lifted herself up in between your legs, meeting your lips once more.

She departed from your lips far too early to your liking yet again but this time she spoke.

“I love you too.” Mon whispered into your ear, a single tear rolling down her eye.

[s-c-g-s-c-g]

Friday Fic Recs

It's time to highlight some Andor fic! I love Andor! It's so full of interesting characters and concepts. No shipping this time around and these are all pretty short.

B2EMO's Core Function by quarantineddreamer - Cassian & B2EMO

When Kassa is brought to Ferrix he is confused, alone, and afraid. Bee is there to make sure he stays safe and help him navigate a new world. B2EMO my beloved! I really enjoy this take on their relationship. Kassa is dealing with a lot and Bee is there to help as best he can. This fic does a great job of examining what might have been.

Performance becomes reality by sithness - Bail Organa & Mon Mothma

Envy is an ugly emotion. Mon, Bail, their daughters and things unspoken. I love this take on the characters. Mon's resentment and Bail's quiet upset and their daughter's fates. There's so many things neither of them says.

who knows anything so young by specificities - Kleya Marki & Leida Mothma

Leida Mothma turns up at the gallery to look for something Chandrilan. Can you tell I'm really into the tragedy of Leida Mothma yet? I am, so fascinated by her as someone who grew up surrounded by girls hauntingly similar. Kleya and Leida have a conversation and Kleya considers her past as a royal handmaiden. I love the perspective Kleya brings here, especially as someone who is beginning to mourn the next generation. There's a quietness of understanding. It was not so tragic when we were young but looking back, the perspective shifts.

[mostthingskenobi]

CASSIAN’S RECKONING - Chapter 4: The Expendable

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Tarkin continues to toy with Cassian, allowing his Death Troopers their pound of flesh. Jyn tries to get the Alliance to help.

I feel such gratitude for the reactions I've gotten to this fic. I'm glad you're enjoying it so far 💜

This is a whumpy fic. Please heed the warnings posted on AO3 for your own well being.

READ THE FIC ON AO3

——————–

CHAPTER 4: THE EXPENDABLE

When the water struck a third time, Cassian choked on a scream as he ruthlessly startled awake. He pulled against his restraints, base instinct making him desperate to escape. The cold-shock became more intense with each exposure, causing his breathing and heart rate to spasm. When the downpour ceased, he was left bent forward over his knees, air shuddering through his lungs. He could feel his pulse in his ears and throat and eyes.

A long moment passed before he realized the lights were on and he wasn’t alone in the cell.

“Good morning, Captain.” Tarkin stood between Cassian and the cell door, his hands clasped behind his back. “Has your reality set in yet?”

Cassian looked up at the unfeeling imperial officer, his chest still heaving and his body shaking from the cold. “Am I supposed to answer that?” he finally asked with feigned innocence. “Has the interrogation started?” The room was so frigid his breath came out in visible, frosty puffs.

A predatory smile stretched across Tarkin’s thin lips. “I find your pluck amusing. Let’s put it to the test, shall we.” He nodded to his death troopers. Cassian heard a metal box snapping open on the table behind him, then two troopers came around front with shock cuffs in their hands. They locked one around each of Cassian’s forearms and biceps, then a third trooper approached with a larger one designed to go around his throat. The rebel’s eyes widened but before he could twist away, a trooper grasped him by the hair and immobilized him, allowing the cold metal to easily lock around his neck. He clenched his teeth and tried to subdue any visible signs of fear, but deep down he knew this was not good; his wet skin would magnify the binder’s effectiveness.

“We’ll start with a simple question. Why try and bluff your way onto my star destroyer?”

Cassian knew pain was inevitable. So, rather than start by verbally provoking his interrogator, he chose silence, simply matching Tarkin’s glare.

The Grand Moff understood. They had each picked their strategy and now the only thing left to do was play their parts. “Very well,” he said, turning to the death trooper squad commander. “Soften him up. I don’t have time for his arrogance. Just make sure he can still talk when I return.”

Once again, Tarkin caught Cassian off guard as the imperial officer turned and left him alone with the six death troopers. After the cell door slid shut, the squad commander took Tarkin’s place. He raised his armor-clad hand so the rebel could see the long, metal trigger button held in his fingers. “Go ahead,” he said, nodding to a trooper on Cassian’s left. The hulking figured stepped close, hauled back, and struck Andor in the face so viciously he instantly drew blood, the black gleaming gauntlets cutting the rebel’s cheek, nose, and eyebrow. Cassian collapsed to the side, sliding down in his chair. He didn’t know a man could hit so hard. But before he even had a chance to catch his breath, the squad commander pressed the trigger and sent an electrical torrent into both of his forearms. Cassian convulsed, snapping back against the chair, unable to breathe much less scream. Finally, the trooper paused the onslaught and allowed another man to come forward.

Andor slumped, gasping for air. The attacks were coming so fast and in such unpredictable ways that he had no ability to steady himself. As blood ran down his face and neck, another trooper stooped eye-to-eye. The man reached behind his back and unsheathed a vibroblade, bringing it close to Cassian’s face, placing the tip under the young man’s chin, lifting his head. “This is for Scarif,” the trooper growled.

——————–

“I assume you’re here looking for Andor.” Draven barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes.

“And I assume you’re doing nothing about the fact that he’s missing,” Jyn retorted as she and the rest of the Rogue Crew circled around the center consul in the ready room.

“He’s not missing,” Draven said, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s out of contact.”

“He’s eight hours outside the envelope.” Jyn struggled to keep her tone from devolving into anger.

“Considering the sensitivity of his mission, which I assume he told you about despite its eyes-only status, eight hours is a reasonable window of error.”

“Is that so?” Jyn said, leaning forward and pressing her knuckles onto the consul in front of her. “How long does Cassian need to be out of contact before you’ll actually take this situation seriously?”

“We take every situation seriously,” a melodic, cultured voice interrupted the discussion. Mon Mothma stepped through the door flanked by her personal aides. “I was told you wanted to speak with me.”

Draven flashed Jyn an angry look, annoyed that she went above his head.

“I want permission to take a ship and a small crew…”

Mothma lifted her hands, cutting off Jyn. “I share your concerns for Andor, but we must be careful. We need to bide our time…”

It was Jyn’s turn to interrupt. “Bide our time? How much time do you think he has if he’s been taken into custody?”

“They are likely to keep him alive.”

Jyn scoffed. “You and I both know how the Empire keeps people alive. The longer we wait, the worse things will get for Cassian.”

Mothma weighed the facts. “You’re right, of course.”

“Cassian put everything on the line for Scarif. He fought through impossible odds, nearly died, all for the Rebellion, to give the galaxy a chance, to stop what happened at Jedha from ever happening again.” She could see in Mothma’s eyes that her message was hitting home. “Now, you send him right into Tarkin’s clutches, and you just abandon him.”

“Tarkin is not supposed to be on his ship.”

“Why are you all so certain that your intel is airtight?”

“It’s a reliable source.”

“After Scarif, nothing is reliable. The Empire’s hackles are up. They’re looking for every excuse to close their fist. And you walked Cassian right into it.”

“He was the best man for the job.”

“He knew the risks,” Draven added. “He’s a good soldier.”

“I’m asking for a ship and for Rogue Crew. Let me go after him. I won’t even ask you for backup.”

“If what you say about reliability is true,” Mon Mothma said, her voice as steady as ever, “then they’ll be expecting you. In fact, they’re likely to hold Andor for an extended period aboard the Executrix in the hopes of luring a rescue party. There is practically no way for you to safely board that star destroyer.”

“I think I can help with that,” a new voice spoke up. They all turned to see General Hera Syndulla approaching.

——————–

END NOTES

NEXT CHAPTER IS CALLED “THE TRUTH" - We start to see Tarkin's real motivations while Cassian struggles to hold his own. Jyn and Hera develop a plan.

Thank you for reading!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are very welcome!

Much love!

——————–

READ IT ON AO3 - Kudos and Comments Welcome :-)

READ CHAPTER 1 “The Razor”

READ CHAPTER 2 “The Scythe”

READ CHAPTER 3 “The Cold”

READ CHAPTER 4 “The Expendable”

READ CHAPTER 5 “The Truth”

READ CHAPTER 6 "The Detritus"

READ CHAPTER 7 “The Salt”

READ CHAPTER 8 “The Power”

READ CHAPTER 9 “The Betrayal”

READ CHAPTER 10 “The Ruse”

READ CHAPTER 11 "The Reprieve"

READ CHAPTER 12 “The Ghosts”

READ CHAPTER 13 “The Redemption”

READ CHAPTER 14 “The Spoils”

READ CHAPTER 15 “The Interrogation”

READ CHAPTER 16 "The Rogues"

READ CHAPTER 17 “The Absolution”

READ CHAPTER 18 “The Reach”

READ CHAPTER 19 "The Hologram"

READ CHAPTER 20 “The Divide”

READ CHAPTER 21 “The Cost”

READ CHAPTER 22 “The Fallout”

READ CHAPTER 23 “The Wounds”

READ CHAPTER 24 "The Hand"

READ CHAPTER 25 “The Heart”

READ CHAPTER 26 “The Beginning”