Sunrise After Stardust

by Nazadith

Summary:

Cassian Andor and Jyn Erso make their peace on that beach, but peace is not theirs to claim yet. They make it to hyperspace, and have to keep living. Their chances were spent, but they're still here. And the Rebellion does not stop asking for their sacrifice simply because their friends made the greatest possible sacrifice for the cause.

Chapter 1: The Beach

Comms Tower, Scarif: Cassian and Jyn

Cassian’s head was spinning. His body felt disconnected, save for the general sense of pain. He’d surely had worse, stolen victories with greater injury. He just couldn’t think of any examples at the moment. His left leg wasn’t responding much at the moment. His blaster had fallen near him in a stroke of luck, and he reached out to grab it. He began to work himself up to a seated position, and pulled back the leg of the trousers, witnessing the beginnings of an obscene bruising patterning the flesh near his knee. He let out a breath between clenched teeth, and holstered his blaster. It wouldn’t stop him from dragging the dead weight that was his body to the archive tower and beginning the climb.

With the Imperial Director gone, chasing after Jyn, he was unobstructed in his ascent. He looked up to the roof, where he hoped Jyn had gotten through. The doorway that he had been shot from lay open with the body of the Death Trooper tripping the sensor, and otherwise it looked abandoned. He couldn’t trust himself to get through the ventilation above, but if there was a lift down that corridor, he thought he could take it. Take the next chance, and the next, and refuse to let them be spent. He pulled himself up along the archival pillar until he was above the door, knowing his leg cannot take the push he would need to jump laterally into the hallway. Using his arms and his one good leg, he threw himself outwards and hoped for gravity to be gentle. It never was.

His left leg cracked against the ground as he cushioned his landing on the trooper’s corpse. The hard plastoid of the armour was only slightly better than the durasteel of the corridor floor, but the unpleasant feel of something in the body’s chest giving underneath him was immediately lost to the shock of impact that shot up into his hips. He muffled his scream of pain to nothing but a grunt by biting on his lip. There could still be Imperials on this level, however unlikely. The elevator shaft lay straight ahead, over a catwalk, though the overhead display signaled the lift was currently moving upwards. He limped to the doorframe, and moved around it carefully, blaster aiming out and then downwards into open space. He blinked, his heart twinging, and then he moved rapidly along the catwalk to the elevator doors.

He knew no faster route to get to the communication dish, and his eyes refuse to stray over the railing to the landing where stormtrooper corpses lie scattered in front of the data vault door. He took the butt of his blaster to the button’s casing, breaking it off and then began pulling out wires, without thought to their purpose. The time for hidden entrances was over, he just needed this system to break. The doors opened to the empty shaft.

It was not comfortable to transfer his weight onto the recessed maintenance ladder, and he almost fell again in the attempt. As he climbed up the floors, the tower shook from repeated shots. Something above him exploded with gusto, and the lift slid down in a shower of sparks before slowing. He was going as fast as he could, but his body was beginning to defy him. There’s only so far he could push it on willpower alone, but he was willing to cross that line. He had always sought out a cause, and finally, he had found something worth that dedication, without fear or doubt of its righteousness. The closer he got to the floor of the lift, the more he was certain that the echoing sounds were voices, over the distant battle.

“Daughter of Galen, and Lyra”

Cassian could have wept with joy. She’s still alive, still defiant. She just needed to hold on for another minute. He felt his hidden heart shatter just a little more as the thought occurred to him. K could have gotten the elevator moving quickly, could have saved him the trouble of this climb. He swallowed the taste of metal and continued climbing. Words echoed down to him.

“My father’s revenge. He put a fuse in the middle of your machine, and I’ve just told the entire galaxy how to light it.”

“The shield is up,” The Imperial Director all but spat the words out. “Your signal will never reach the rebel base.”

Cassian could hear the blood rushing through his ears as he grasped the next rung. The man was so confident in his victory, that he could not believe that a simple rebel incursion could destroy his superweapon. The rage drowned out the next words, and as he pulled himself onto the top of the lift and pries the maintenance hatch open, he readied his blaster. He lowered himself down as quietly as possible into the lift, and stepped out onto the communication tower, moving instinctively towards cover.

It was utter chaos. The air was filled with flashes as X-Wings fight some form of experimental Imperial fighters. The Rebel Fighters were clearly losing against the superior numbers, and Cassian could only trust that the shield gate was down. The rest of their renegades would not let him down but… it was not a good sign that reinforcements are still absent from the aerial battle.

“You, on the other hand, die with the Rebellion.”

Jyn stared down the white-clad Imperial officer, weaponless, from the perilous footing. She was preparing to rush Director Krennic, and damn the consequences. She wouldn’t die without trying. One more chance.

Cassian propped himself against the pillar so that his injuries would not make his aim shake. He made himself aim at the center of mass, took a deep breath, and made the most important shot of his life. The bolt struck true, and the Imperial never got a shot off. He collapsed in a whirl of white cloth. Cassian wasn’t certain whether he struck him a lethal blow, as a blur had begun to sneak in around the edges of his vision.

Jyn ducked and readied to dash forward, somewhat shocked that she was not killed. She didn’t take her eyes off of Krennic until he was prostrated and then glanced towards Cassian. He risked a small smile for her, that tiny bit of warmth, as he continued to cover Krennic. She raced to the comm panel and began the transmission. As she watched the progress bar begin to fill, she could not help but smile. They had done it. She truly had told the galaxy how to destroy her father’s mistake. The mission was successful.

She limped towards Cassian and put a hand on his arm. Only then did she notice how he still watched Krennic. She turned and lunged towards the fallen man, ready to make sure the job was finished.

Cassian’s hand caught her around the arm almost immediately, and tugged her to him, begging her to walk away from revenge just this once. He knows, he desperately knows, that need for release. There wasn’t time for that now.

“Leave it, leave it. That’s it.”

Jyn barely heard the words, as she was pulled close against him. He was shaking. She can’t imagine what his injuries are, not yet. Not until they’re safe. Krennic was as good as dead. Galen’s revenge was already slinging out into the stars above. She swung Cassian’s arm around her shoulder and began the walk towards the lift. If any of the others were out there, she and Cassian might be able to find them at the base of the tower.

Cassian was not thinking about his injuries. He was fairly sure he wouldn’t have to, soon enough. He smiled at Jyn. Somehow, he’s glad it was her with him now.

He asked, “Do you think anybody’s listening?”

“I do. Someone’s out there.”

The pair reached the door and Cassian nearly collapsed from the effort of reaching for the button to open the lift. They were too focused on each other to see the artificial moon beginning to crest the horizon behind them.

Anyone with a minor element of medical training could tell something was wrong with Cassian. He was beginning to lose time. Seconds fluttered away from him like embers from a fire. He stared at Jyn, certain she could have let him go by now to lean on the wall. He didn’t think he wanted her to.

Jyn stared up at Cassian, knowing he’s fading. There was a softness in his face now. He’s always sharp angles and confidence, but at this stage in their journey together, his face was open with wonder. He looked at her like she had hung the stars in the sky, and she wasn’t certain what to do with that. She wasn’t sure what to do with the warmth that he made her feel. A small part of her claws a minor victory, and she decides she will just hold onto him, just for a little longer. For his safety.

The doors of the lift opened moments before the entire tower shook with impact. The lights turned off and then the facility flickered over into emergency power.

They stumbled out of the base onto the sand. Jyn could feel Cassian nearly fall as he saw the bodies of their rogue rebels scattered in front of the communication tower door. He whispered the name of one of the corpses, almost inaudibly, but did not let go of her. Her hope of escape was dimming, but she felt this may not be the worst place to die if that must be their fate. There was some twisted beauty on this planet. Their feet traced their way over the rivulet in the sand caused by a downed U-Wing. Her eyes refused to pick out the faces of the dead, and she did not count the dead troopers on either side. Her focus was on getting Cassian to the sea, and he was happy to follow her.

Cassian fell to his knees as he arrived at the water's edge. He had seen the expanding cloud on the horizon once before, and he felt he would not be able to outrun this particular attack. Not this time. Jyn's arm slipped out from under him, and she supported him in sitting down, though he could sense her attention drifting. He looked up at her, his vision cleared enough to see the despondent look on her face. She was almost unable to take her eyes off the explosion. He wished desperately to comfort her, to distract her. He wants her to know she is loved before the end, but he has known too many rebels unhappy about final confessions to share his own.

“Your father would have been proud of you, Jyn.”

She smiled through watery eyes and reached for his hand. The wind has grown loud enough to hear as it pushed out towards them. It was almost like a sunrise. Their hands clasped tight together as they looked, and before he knew it she was pulling him to his knees. Her hands bunched on the collar of his undershirt, as she embraced him tightly.

It wasn’t a confession, but Cassian hopes that the unspoken meaning was intentional. He pulled her tight against him and closed his eyes. He had only moments to wonder at the way that her body fit his own, and not even that thought of lost potential could make him flinch now.

Chapter 2: The Escape Ship

Summary:

Jyn works on keeping the U-Wing that lifted them from Scarif operational

Beachside, Scarif: Jyn

Cassian will never remember those final moments of fear. Jyn will never forget them. The waves were so tranquil as the world-encompassing wave approached. The plasma of the vaporised planet was racing to catch up and a detached part of her mind wondered what would hit her first. That part that Saw Gerrera had cultivated began to calculate which would hurt more, the water or the heat.

She kept her eyes open, not wanting to have to guess at the moment of her death. That was the only thing that had her ready to react so quickly. At the sight of an approaching transport, with its oversized directional wings, she pulled Cassian roughly to his feet, ignoring the agonised groan. The doors of the U-Wing were already open and they were nearly collided with as the ship all but scooped them up directly. She had barely enough time to lift Cassian into the ship and throw herself into the doorway before the pilot pulled into the air. There were two dead rebels slumped on the opposite side of the bay, and the door was shuddering its way closed with carbon scoring all along the edge. 

Cassian wasn’t moving. The pilot, female by the sound of her cry, was screaming out her fear as the ship was pushed to its maximum speed attempting to outrun the oncoming blast. The ship climbed nearly vertically and the contents of the U-Wing’s bay hurtled backwards in response. Jyn curled herself around Cassian to attempt to cushion his impact. She felt more than heard the crack of ribs as his weight and hers was pressed against the cold durasteel. 

They were unable to rise for several minutes. She clenched her fingers around the fabric of Cassian’s clothes as she hoped against hope that they had seized one more chance, one more moment. Finally, the ship rocketed into hyperspace, and the pressure lifted. 

Jyn could feel Cassian’s breath stuttering. Her fingers felt at his wrist, finding a fluttering heartbeat. He was unmoving, his eyes rolling behind closed lids. She looked around wildly for any sort of medical kit, anything that could help him. There was no sound from the cockpit anymore. Information like that wasn’t helpful to saving her… friend; ally; Cassian, so it passed out of her mind immediately. The ship still echoed with the groans that signify passage through hyperspace and thus was not a priority. 

Her eyes caught on the vest of the hither-to unexamined corpse sharing the hold with her. She could see the split sigil emblazoned on his shoulder in red, the galactic medical symbol. She had no time for sentiment. Jyn stumbled her way over and rolled the body onto his back. She didn’t think she’d seen this particular rebel around, but she thanked him for his valiant service. Her hands picked out long empty syringes, bandages that would be useless, and finally struck something important. This little medic had kept a trio of spare bacta shots in his breast pocket next to a small leatherbound book, all of which were slick with blood. The book had not been quite thick enough to stop the blaster bolt which had gone through it into his heart, however.

Jyn took the trio out, and fell to her knees by Cassian. She rolled him onto her lap. Her thumb found the plunger as she jabbed the syringe into Cassian’s arm, and she depressed the healing liquid into him. His body jerked once, and then his chest began to rise and fall rhythmically. 

With the crisis averted, Jyn’s senses returned to normal with a near audible snap. Her eyes were dry, and her mouth tasted metallic. She must have bit her tongue during the escape. She could smell smoke, but she couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in her ears.

“Pilot? Thank you for helping us,” she coughed out.

She eased Cassian down onto the floor of the hold. It was time to investigate the circumstances they were in.

“Pilot?”

She picked her way carefully through the hold to the comms station. She could see the arm of the pilot hanging off to the side.

“I have stims, if you…” her voice trailed off, as she realised. The woman nearly looked peaceful, her face without agony, save for the blood that had leaked from nose and mouth to blend into her flight suit. She’d given her all to fly her crew in and back out of Scarif. The Rebels had given so much to follow them to Scarif. To believe in her father’s words, in her words. 

 “We’ll carry that spark, now.”

Jyn reached out and closed the pilot’s eyes, as she spoke. She stayed for a moment, locking her grief away deep in her heart. Too much had been lost for this, and the Death Star was out there. If she dipped into that sadness, she would drown. She sniffed again, and this time she saw it. The console was smoking, and she could see the copilot’s display shorting out. It flashed once as she stared, and then turned off entirely. The final image she saw was the life support system beginning to flare a warning orange.

Jun moved to lean over the pilot and checked the heading of the ship.

“Where have you jumped us to,” she asked aloud, as she pulled up the information on the display.

The navicomputer listed a short emergency jump along the Manda Merchant Run, an impressive bit of quick plotting by their unfortunate pilot. They would come out in the Rishi system, a spot of luck- or the Force’s favour- if ever there was one. Saw had been fond of one of the Rishi moons as a fallback, there would be a Partisan beacon there. She could find and activate it, and if any of the Partisans had kept the faith, there’d be a chance for aid. 

She took a moment to recall old systems sabotage lessons, and pulled up the power distribution screen on the main console. She tried to get the U-Wing to redistribute power to the failing subsystems. The screen clicked through, and then began to flash with errors. Damage warnings popped up. 

“No, no, no,” she chanted, tapping the screen as it flashed a final time and darkened.

Jyn cursed softly to herself, and began to look at what supplies were left on the U-Wing. 

A little over an hour later, Jyn was elbow deep within an electrical subsystem of the ship. Her hands were now bandaged where the platform of Scarif had rubbed her raw, and they had begun to itch. She was taking long slow breaths, trying to slow down the oxygen she was using, and thanked her lucky stars that there was only one person awake to burn through their air. Cassian had been laid out, unwaking, with his head on the go bag. She had some training in rewiring, but it was rarely to fix the issues that were currently afflicting the ship, and more to cause them. Already she had accidentally switched off the main lighting, turned off the heating, and had nearly electrocuted herself. She’d put all but the first problem back in order, and was working in the orange emergency lights alone. She had begun talking to herself to fill the silence.

“Surely if you know how to turn systems off, you’re most of the way to knowing how to turn them on?” 

Sparks flew as she connected a pair of wires, their insulation mostly worn off by time. Something deep in the ship began to hum again. 

“Not so different to building a bomb, after all. If I’m lucky, nothing else has turned off… Vialla would not be impressed with the mess I’ve made.”

Jyn pulled her hand out slowly, not wanting to knock any of her loosely braided wires from their precarious joinings. She had picked up many little skills since she had begun going alone, but she wasn’t fond of the coldness of space. She spent most of her time moving planet to planet. It felt a little odd to think that a few days prior, she had been counting her days in a prison camp and working on another method of escape. Now, she had gained a family, a purpose, and had lost it again. She had found… she wouldn’t think of that yet. Not til the station was found and destroyed.

Something else in the ship gave a sputter and began to turn off. She went to sit by Cassian for a moment. The young rebel was exhausted. She had not stopped fighting, not since before Eadu. Not since long before that, if she thought about it. Scarif had been the closest to death she had ever come and she had lost many people she thought could have been friends. It’s been a long time since she had found anyone she could trust, and they had been torn from her by the cold fist of the Imperial war machine again. 

Jyn rested her hand on Cassian’s shoulder. Cassian's injuries are many. He should be immersed in bacta, but instead, he has her, self trained enough to fix herself after minor scraps, with bandages wrapping him in white. His bare feet are scarred, but they look like old injuries. Jyn can count three separate marks where blaster wounds have healed over, nothing quite enough to keep him down. She hopes that the pattern stays true even now. She distracts herself from his future prospects by imagining what could have caused the older damage.

He was stable for now. Everything Scarif had brought with him was something she could deal with in her own time, granted that they had time together. 

After some minutes rest, the ship was getting noticeably colder. Her improvised fix was already failing. With a sigh, she heaved herself back to her feet and went to rewire more complex electronics. 

Chapter 3: The Abandoned Station

Summary:

The pair of Rebels seek help fixing the ship, as they avoid a crash landing.

Abandoned Base, Rishi: Cassian

The Rishi moon that had been luckily within their destination system was cold, grey, and thankfully free of ships in sight. Cassian had awoken as the ship shuddered out of hyperspace, the fawning in his eyes from the beach gone as he took in the emergency. He compartmentalised well, the career spy, and had taken over the fixing of the ship. Jyn had sat down as he limped around, and was mumbling to herself, though he could not hear what. They were both wrapped in emergency blankets, as the temperature control had been lost to give them air. 

Cassian had not managed to get the display to turn back on, but he could pilot by eye. Jyn got up as they came closer and murmured short instructions, leading them in towards a small cratered stretch of land in the northern hemisphere. Built in against one of the walls was a seemingly long forgotten base. Republic, by its construction. 

“Those crates are old, but at the edge of the pad? That’s a facade. Not enough wear on the edges,” Jyn pointed out the flaw and they shared a smile. “Someone has been using this base recently. There’s a chance.”

Cassian laid a hand against his ribs as she looked back out the window. Landing manually would be possible, but the canyon was dangerous. That landing pad was thin enough, and he wasn’t in the best shape. No matter what, it would be jarring, and the pain would have to be managed carefully.

“Strap in, I’ll take us down.”

Jyn gave him a concerned look but strapped herself into the copilot seat, simply saying, “Careful.”

He grunted, and grabbed onto the controls to pilot them down. They were silent and calm, save for a growing pain in his abdomen as the shuttle shook slightly in the shift to manual control.

“Who can we expect,” he asked, more to distract himself from the pain than for any particular preparation he could do.

“I only got a brief look at who was still with him, as we evacuated Jedha. I don’t know if anyone from my time is left. I’m hoping for Vialla, their mad old mechanic, to vouch for me. I’m not sure who else would remember me fondly. A man called Staven taught me bomb making, but he wasn’t there when Saw left me. I’m hoping there will be some I fought with but the Partisans always had a high turnover rate.”

“So the plan is to lure the most paranoid and dangerous rebel faction we know to us with a possibly abandoned beacon, hope they’ll listen to us before shooting, and then convince them they’re better off helping us and the Rebellion?”

“I never said it would be easy. But I know Saw, and I know what he’s taught his inner circle.”

“I trusted you this far, Jyn.”

She didn’t respond to that, but Cassian didn’t need her to. The ship’s wings were rotated into the forward locked landing position with a flick of a switch, and he braced for a rough landing. There wasn’t much of an atmosphere, just on the edge of breathable, so he wasn’t worried about winds buffeting the craft as it landed. 

A flat boom rocked the ship as it hit the landing pad slightly harder than he’d meant to, and Cassian bit his lip to restrain the grunt of pain from escaping. He gave her an attempt at a smirk, and she hid her concern from him as she flashed a smile back. They made their way off of the ship and into the long forgotten base.

The beacon was within a wall panel just as Jyn had said it would be, and was easily activated. With no guarantee that they would be heard any time soon, they both sat down to wait. Cassian was not operating at his best, but he couldn’t let Jyn know that. They were in enemy territory. He had done this before. He sat against the wall as straight as he could, with his blaster pistol across his lap.

He hadn’t cared getting down to the beach, but it was different when you made peace with your death and kept walking after. War would make corpses of them all, he just hadn’t had the sense to lie down. He closed his eyes for a moment, to cool the headache.

When he awoke, the beacon’s display was flashing and a low tone was repeating. Jyn was sat on the bench next to him, her elbows on her knees, her hands under her chin. She spoke without looking at him.

“They pinged the beacon just after you fell asleep. This is the proximity warning, they’ll be getting very near.”

“Do you want me to-”

Jyn cut in, “You’re going to fall over if they look at you too hard. These were my people. I’ll lead, you just need to look tough and back me up.”

Cassian grimaced, and stood, holstering his blaster. He tested his ability to move, and found it wanting. Begrudgingly, he agreed to her plan.

Jyn seemed satisfied, her mind already moving on to her next step. She got up and moved over towards the central consoles, to off-balance the Partisans as they entered by forcing them to split their attention to different sides of the room. Cassian leaned against the wall with forced casualness. He wished he hadn’t discarded his coat, now. 

The camera display showed three X-Wings painted a now infamous black flying in with external lights beaming bright. They put down in the craters outside, and Cassian suggested to Jyn that they probably had hidden hangers connected out there. Jyn murmured assent, her eyes never straying from the display.

After several tense minutes of waiting, the ragtag remnants of Saw Gerrara's famed Partisans filed into the room. A furred alien with a pale skull-like head led the way, his blaster held at hip height as he took long calculated steps in. It unerringly pointed at Jyn. Another figure entered wearing a painted Scout trooper helmet, his blaster rifle pointed at a corner, and then at Cassian. Sloppy. Cassian could have taken him down before he switched targets, though Jyn would have went down in the process. Well, Cassian could have done it if he was uninjured. He wasn’t confident in his chances now, and raised his hands up slowly.  

As the first two entered, Jyn made a noise, tutting. Cassian couldn't tell whether it was in disgust, or in challenge. A large alien stooped to get in the doorway, its skin sallow and saggy, its upper face mostly covered by goggles that connected to a cybernetic eye in its forehead. 

Jyn leaned against the line of computers and welcomed them in, “Skulls! I'm not surprised you survived, cockroach. Can't even shake you by shaking a planet.”

The lead man’s voice was hissing and sibilant, and his expression was difficult to read. His nasal slits flared as he responded, “You're living well yourself, Jyn Erso. Long way from the scrappy Kestrel Dawn left in the bunker.”

Cassian could tell that it stung Jyn to be reminded, but she rallied to her bravado quickly, saying, “At least I don't run from fights these days. Attacked the Imps on their home ground. Big operation, lots of credits in it. Can the same be said for you?”

The pale alien let loose a hissing laugh, as he holstered his blaster. Cassian stared at the large figure with the cybernetic eye. He was almost familiar to Cassian, who had seen many aliens in his time in the galaxy. Such a unique silhouette, however. 

Suddenly Cassian exclaimed, “You! I know you. You were on Narkina, weren’t you? Big man who wanted the fish!”

The Scout’s blaster whined as he primed it, startled by the outburst. The pale alien raised a hand to hold, calling out a command in Tognothan. The goggled alien spoke in those oscillating tones Cassian remembered from years prior. The threads of his life always seemed to return, pulling at him. The others listened to him, and then looked to Cassian. 

The gunslinging leader translated to them, “Dewi says you've run far from the prison. It's a regular reunion for old friends, isn’t it? But you are not Partisans. Why have you called for us?”

“We were nearly killed by the same weapon used on Jedha to destroy the Holy City. We beamed the plans out to the main Rebel fleet, to aid in taking that monster down, but we barely managed to get on an escape craft. It’s badly damaged, and we put down where we thought we could repair and get back to the fight.”

The pale headed alien spoke once more. “It is true then? A suicidal Imperial Archive attack, fleet action, loot for those lucky survivors?”

Jyn was suddenly guarded, replying, “You've heard about it this far out of the way, already?”

“Weeteef still has some connections. A call went out for a general rally. The Galaxy has not heard of it yet. Still. It was fiery. Brave.”

Jyn responded, “It was necessary. The station that destroyed the Holy City was used on Scarif, as well. It’s a planet killer. The Rebel Council wouldn’t hear it, until I forced their hands. Saw was right about some of them.”

The Partisans laughed, and Cassian looked to her guardedly. 

She continued, “But he was wrong in the end, and far too solitary. He chose to end his long fight, and left us to pick up the pieces. Brave men and women lost their lives to pass on the plans, and they’re just the beginning. The rebels will have to be in the fight now. We need to go back.” 

The Partisans were much less impressed with this, but ‘Skulls’ was open to the conversation.

“Staven has gone to ground, making up his own group after the loss of Saw. Tubes wants revenge on the Empire more than ever, and he’s getting dangerous, just like Saw was. The Cavern Angels haven’t picked a side yet. What’s your offer?”

Jyn jutted out her chin, definitely challenging now.

“You help fix the ship on the pad, I can give you an in with the Rebel Council. You can have access to resupplies, support, a proper purpose.”

Cassian glanced at Jyn briefly, but nodded his head and said, “I can vouch for you. The Rebellion will need fighters now. Those fighters you flew in with are famous enough in our circles. I know what it's like for the rebels considered too dirty for the light. My cell was on the outside too. We’ve all suffered alone. It’s time to fight together.” 

“We will discuss this. Await us.”

With that, the group of Partisans withdrew outside, where they began a hushed conversation. Jyn gave Cassian a tight smile, and sat back against the console she had been standing near.

A short time later, they were back on their ship, limping through hyperspace, back towards Yavin. Dafir Toogan was a mechanical genius, but there was only so much he could do. He had pulled out the Scarif survivors’ improvised wiring, his features masked and hooded, hiding his reaction to the mess. His voice was even as he asked for replacement wiring, and he worked slowly and carefully. The Partisan mechanic had joined their group after Jyn’s time, but had been vouched for by Kulbee Sperado, the pale alien Jyn had called Skulls. 

The Partisans hadn’t enthusiastically agreed, but they would take the offer back to the main Partisan outpost, which they hadn’t revealed the location of. They wanted supplies dropped off at a spaceport in the Kafrene system in return, which Jyn had agreed to. Cassian wasn’t certain they’d stick to their accord, but it was an opening. He’d add it to their report when he returned to Rebel Intelligence. They'd even left the corpses from Scarif laid out in honour, spare blankets laid over their faces. 

Jyn gave Cassian another shot of bacta, to soothe the aches beginning to throb through his body. When they landed, they would need to make reports, Cassian would need healing, they would face the results of what was technically their mutiny. The fight would be drowning them once more.

For now they sat together in the darkened hold, leaning against one another, and watched the stars swirl.

Chapter 4: The Hangar

Summary:

Cassian and Jyn land on Scarif. They find that not everyone thinks of them as heroes in the Rebel Alliance, and that the events of Scarif are still a mystery to most of the galaxy.

Hanger Bay, Yavin IV: Cassian and Jyn

Upon landing at Yavin IV, their ship had been swarmed by Rebel soldiers. Cassian had warned Jyn on their approach that this was not unlikely, seeing as it had been only a few days from the last time he had gone renegade. He wouldn’t answer her questions about the previous situation, only warning her that the Council would be less than thrilled with his approach to orders. It touched her heart that he had burned his connections to fulfil their goals, knowing the consequences if they survived.

Their pilot and the two rebels were bundled off, to be given full honours and proper funerary rites in accordance to their planetary origins. They, however, were rebellious rebels. Jyn and Cassian were cuffed, brought to separate cells, and subjected to intense questioning. 

“Were you caught on Coruscant? When were you turned?”

Cassian’s loyalty was questioned; his connections to the vilified Luthen Rael brought up, the personal connections he had pulled upon to make the initial attack on Scarif doubted. He was adamant that it was necessary, and that Luthen Rael was right to be concerned about this weapon. His anger had burnt out, and it was a cold rage in the depth of his soul that was at the fore now. 

“You were part of the Imperial informant network, were you not? Who was your handler for this mission? What was your briefing? Draw the Rebel fleet out, allow it to be smashed against the anvil of the Imperial Archive defenses?”

Jyn’s lack of rebel spirit in her initial questioning was brought up, the numerous charges she had squirreled her way out of were put into doubt. If Jyn’s father’s weapon was not at large in the galaxy, she may have wavered, but she had a cause to champion. 

For an untold amount of time, Alliance interrogators tried to find signs of corruption, to which Cassian had retreated into sullen silence. 

They had begun a routine of leading stories, when a buzzer sounded. Immediately, Cassian’s interlocutors cut themselves off mid accusation. One looked to the other as if the interruption was their fault, as the door behind them slid open. 

The craggy face of General Draven loomed its way into the dim lighting of the stone room, as he spoke. “Get the man some water, and go down to the training halls. You’ve earned yourself some time teaching grapples to the new recruits.”

 “General, this man is-”

“Corporal, you’ve overstepped. You do not begin to understand how far. Go.”

Murmuring excuses, protestations, sounds, the pair of interrogators ushered each other from the room. Draven stepped into the light, slumping into the chair. He looked like he hadn’t slept.

“Captain Andor, it is good to see you safe. We feared the worst when we got news of the fleet action over Scarif. Very few ships have returned.”

Cassian leaned forward and asked the question he had waited for an answer to since waking up on the U-Wing. 

“Were there any other survivors from the surface? Did you get the plans? We sent them up, we made the connection.” 

“No. The captain of the freighter ‘Ghost’ claims that the Profundity received a large transmission shortly before calling for general retreat. They saw the beam weapon of this Death Star, and the arrival of the Imperial Star Destroyer of Darth Vader before it opened fire on the Profundity. No shuttles launched from the surface. No pods left the Profundity.”
 
“We… You didn’t?” Cassian slumped, eyes closing. 

“We’ve been piecing together telemetry transmitted from our snubfighters as they arrive at rendezvous points. The Ghost was linked into the command chatter of the Profundity and has been essential to working out what happened over the shield gate. But no one knows what happened under the shield gate.”

Cassian’s eyes flew open, despair battling fury inside him. 

“We lost, General. We were slaughtered on the beach, the fighters were slaughtered in the air,” Cassian began to rise from his chair, ignoring the sound of metal scraping against stone as he pushed it back. His voice was rising now, nearing a shout, “Our infiltration team made it all the way to the archive, we found their plans, and we realigned their comms tower to transmit it out. My droid bought us some time, and we got it out, and you’re saying it was all for nothing?”

“No, Captain. I am telling you that we need to know what happened, every detail, so that we can plan our next step. You were right. Luthen Rael was right. Now we find out where those plans…” 
Draven’s eyes are fixed to Cassian’s abdomen, to a slowly spreading stain on his borrowed shirt. Cassian couldn’t work out when he’d gotten so close. The General’s lips were moving, but he wasn’t saying anything. Why wasn’t he responding?

Cassian’s vision was wavering. He had just been talking about something incredibly important. He tried to narrow his eyes to bring his focus back. There was a hand on his back, and he was being ushered into his chair again. Draven was calling for someone in the corridor. Cassian was already dead, so what was the fuss?

Later, in the med bay, Jyn was released to oversee Cassian being awakened from his healing sleep. She had not had the Rebel Intelligence lead personally end her interrogation. She had been left alone in a dimly lit cell by those who were meant to be her allies, only taken out when they remembered she existed. She had raged, she had sat silent, she had beseeched them to listen to and trust her. All of it meaningless now that Cassian was here, healing, because they had not listened to her when she said they’d been wounded badly getting off of the beaches of Scarif. She had been escorted through the halls to Cassian’s bedside, and had heard the shouting as people realised the plans were with the Tantive IV somewhere in the Outer Rim. She had been forced to work through the despair of thinking they’d lost, and the resurgence of hope when a new chance had been found, alone. She had been the strong one, breaking the news to Cassian when he’d awake. She had dealt with the worship in his eyes as if she was the one to restore hope to him. She felt like she was burning in his gaze, and had burst from the room as soon as she could, as soon as they had received their verdict from an Intelligence runner.

By nightfall on Yavin IV, they were free to roam the base. Jyn’s classification is in limbo, having been added to the duty roster by Draven to backdate the Scarif mission as an official strike under his jurisdiction. She is both a Sergeant of the Rebel Alliance Intelligence service and a civilian, so she mostly sticks to the outer huts. Cassian is a semi-disgraced Captain, known to few. They’re a hero to some and the arch-traitor to others. The inhabitants of Yavin simply have not made up their minds as to how to receive the pair. 

Jyn and Cassian do not talk about the… interaction… they had when they were both due to be killed by her father’s weapon. They also do not leave each other alone. Neither have noticed, seeking only to avoid the other Rebels when possible. 

Cassian hadn’t been planning to stay up all night writing a single overdue mission report. Thousands of times he had done this simple action, and with much more doubt over the morality of his actions. Why was he unable to find the proper words to express what happened on Scarif?  

His hands clenched tight on the datapad, hard enough to fracture a less durable material. He was distracted from it by the presence of a half-unwrapped ration bar, obscuring the screen. His eyes followed it to the wrapped hands, and then up the arm to Jyn’s unsmiling face.

“Eat. This can wait.”

“I don’t-”

“I didn’t ask you a question, Cassian. Eat.” 

She pulled the ‘pad out of his hands and replaced it with the food. While his mind was caught up in working out how she had done it, she settled next to him, sliding down the wall to lean against him. He was hyperaware of the warmth of her arm against his. 

“You’re not officially supposed to be reading that.”

She gave him a small smirk, barely lifting her eyes from the report. 

“I’m not just reading it. I’ll give it back when I’m done.”

He made a half-hearted grab for it and then let his head thunk back against the cold of the wall, careful to settle with the exact same level of contact with Jyn as before. 

“Have you eaten?”

“Who do you think had the other half?”

Cassian was struck once again by the kindness of Jyn Erso. That was why he would follow her into the heart of a star. Again. He flinched at that and took a deep breath. He covered for it with the usual snark, “I thought they were just cutting down on rations again. Keeps us on our toes. No getting too comfortable.”  

“You aren’t as funny as you think you are. You need to sleep.”

A wall in his heart opened up. A younger Cassian, the son of Maarva who hadn’t yet seen the senseless cruelty of the galaxy, peeked out, and he found that he trusted Jyn Erso to not need him to be strong right now.

“There’s… not a likelihood of that happening. I can at least be useful, while I’m awake.”

She stared at him, with an unreadable expression in her eyes. 

“I’ll stay up as long as you’re awake then. Shift,” she said as she went back to the report.

She resolutely avoided his eyes and did not smile, looking annoyed, as she shuffled him over and then put her full weight on him, ending with her head resting on his shoulder. Despite it all, Cassian felt the moment she relaxed, letting go of all the tension she carried into the ship’s bay. It was an awkward position if he had dreamed of working on the report for much longer, but he could not focus on it. 

He chuckles quietly, when he reads her additions to his official recollection. His voice was barely above a whisper as he said, “I cannot send this in. They already suspect us of being spies and turncoats. They’ll suspect this has been tampered with. No report of mine has ever used the word ‘bantha-shit’ before. And his name is Draven.” 

“General Craven is exactly what he is. Don’t change it, I think they should hear something true for once, they know you haven’t left the base.” She replies, not opening her eyes. He says nothing.

The dim light from the hangar does not pass into their corner of the ship, as if it too is afraid of breaking the fragile peace they have found. He powers down the datapad and lets it slide off his lap onto the floor. His cheek slowly comes to rest on the top of her head. In the darkness of the ship bay where they had narrowly escaped death, the pair of rebels finally find rest with each other, once again.

 

Chapter 5: The Debriefing

Summary:

Rebel Intelligence has a new job for Cassian Andor, and Jyn Erso receives her orders. They discuss the Scarif attack and the location of the missing plans.

Rebel Base, Yavin IV: Cassian and Jyn 

Draven requested an in-person debrief from Cassian within one standard hour of receiving the submission of the Scarif mission report. He looked utterly unsurprised to see Jyn shadowing Cassian as he entered the small interrogation room that Rebel Intelligence had held him in one rotation before. His lips thinned momentarily, and Cassian watched closely. He noted the exact moment Draven made the decision to ignore the breach of security protocol.

“Captain Andor. I was hoping to clarify some of the statements in your recent mission summary.”

Cassian’s face didn’t change. He didn’t look at Jyn. He knew that she was glaring at Draven as if she could destroy him with a look. He would have been destroyed if he was in Draven’s position.

“The entirety of Blue Squadron, several Rebel cells, dozens of battle-tested veterans. Gold Squadron lost a third of their Y-Wing bomber fleet, Red Squadron is down half a dozen men. Our Mon Calamari allies lost a dreadnought, along with several corvettes, frigates. Our fleet is scattered. With the losses on Eadu and on Scarif, we have entered this war on a weak footing. Morale is low, we need to know it was for something meaningful! If not, you’re looking at a swift end to your war, Captain Andor.“

“Now hold on,” exclaimed Jyn, ready to jump in on Cassian's behalf. Cassian knew the way Draven spoke when he was dressing down a subordinate, and this didn't seem to be it.

Draven held up his hand and continued.

“I stuck my neck out for you for Kafrene, and you did not let me down. Preliminary scans of the orbital battle corroborate your,” Draven turned to Jyn, “claims of a planet killer attached to a massive battle station. And it is capable of hyperspace travel by the looks of it. So Intelligence has a voice of leverage at the council, while detractors now look foolish.”

Cassian exchanged a look with Jyn. Cassian knew Draven had gotten this position because of whatever role he had played in the previous Galactic Government's intelligence. He had a keen mind and was not to be underestimated. 

Draven continued, but he noted the look, “You have noted the last known positions of your team. You have speculated as to the fate of some, such as the Imperial cargo pilot noted here as a landing pad explosion with ‘smoke in line with the expected detonation output of a Zeta-Class heavy cargo shuttle, based on prior sabotage experience’.”

“What do you want from me?” asked Cassian.

“You note the deaths of a significant number of the ground team at the base of the tower. Is there any possibility that members of your infiltration team survived up to the point of the Death Star’s blast?”

Jyn cut in, “No. We were outnumbered going in, and that was before the Imperial director sent his special forces in.”

Cassian didn’t look at her. He agreed with her assessment. They had all gone in knowing that there wasn’t much chance of getting out. 

Draven examined them both for a moment, before noting something on his datapad. He said, “We’ll look into it. You had access to the entirety of the Imperial database for crucial moments. You have noted seeing a project of interest to Rebel High Command, codenamed Pax Aurora, while in the archives.”

“We were looking for the plans Galen Erso had mentioned. It was only a brief mention, Pax Aurora. We have bigger problems right now. Have you found what happened to the plans?”

“Senator Mothma has advised me of a recent update. The plans are out there in the galaxy, as far as we know. Senator Organa had a team of operatives on the Profundity. None of our informants have heard that the Devastator, the Imperial flagship of Death Squadron, has rejoined its fleet. This means that it likely is still pursuing the Alderaanian cell from the orbit of Scarif, but we do not know where. This ties together two neat problems.”

“Which are?”

 Jyn was silently observing. Cassian felt exhausted, bone deep weariness filling him. The older man continued, his eyes as cold as ice.

“I need someone to take over a recently established and now vital listening outpost on a small ice planet along the Corellian Trade Spine, in the Anoat sector. You will be in prime position to intercept communications from refuelling ships, as they pass through. You will then be able to pass this information directly to me. It will give some time for the Imperial - and Rebel, for that matter - interest in you to die down.”

“Is this a request, General?” 

“If that makes you feel better about it. This will be your medical leave, such as it is. You'll have the file on Pax Aurora as bedtime reading. This strengthens the Rebellion as a whole.”

“If he’s going out to babysit comms operators, what do you expect of me?” Jyn cut in. “No matter how you dressed up the mission we took because YOUR council was too scared to, I never joined your group. I joined Cassian.”

“We will need you to be present to verify the plans, when they return to this base, whoever's hands they’re in. You have witnessed them, and together with our slicers, will guarantee they are worth the use.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jyn said. She didn’t want to agree to an order from someone she detested like this, but they all knew she would stay for now.

“It’s not easy being the only ones to survive an operation like that. Go get something to eat, rest until the transport arrives. If anyone survived Scarif, that listening outpost will likely pick up transmissions about it. Good luck out there.”

With that dismissal, they had left, and eaten a meal of what was essentially boiled rations. With Cassian packing his few items for relocation, Jyn was free to return for a quick personal chat with General Craven. He didn't even have the decency to look surprised when she made her way to his office.

Without waiting for him to speak, she began.

“That man has given everything for this rebellion. We have survived on miracles alone. I would understand sending me off, but you're benching one of your best operatives!”

Draven scowled, giving her his full attention, and said, “Cassian Andor has been running from one rebellious suicide mission to another. Each time he lands that U-Wing, he returns slightly more injured. If I send him on a combat mission before he's healed, he will come back dead. If I keep him here, those who don't want to be in the war, those who lost people on Scarif, they'll start working out that the man who has been able to fly in and out of this base without repercussions may be someone they can blame. Andor needs to rest. He needs to find his feet. I need that outpost up and running, and I need people listening for the second that battle station resurfaces.” 

Jyn’s fury banked, thrown off as she was. Had Craven found his heart?

“He has lost his mentor, most of those he associates with in this Rebellion, and has nearly died. I’ve seen good friends turn their blaster around for less. I am the one who makes the hard decisions, Miss Erso. That doesn’t mean I enjoy seeing my people ground down.”

“You said Cassian may be in danger. What about me? ‘Daughter of an Imperial scientist’, as you said. No one waiting to swing a punch at me?” 

“Very few know you for that. I’ve been making sure fewer care to. We have spin doctors already at work turning that speech of yours into recruiting material, so you’re popular enough in some circles. You’ve been folded into Intelligence. While you’re on base, you will be undertaking tasks as directed, but you will be safe. I protect my own, when I can.” 

Jyn didn’t know what to say to that. After a moment, she decided she didn’t need to. She let herself out.

When Jyn returned, Cassian had been quiet. He was lost in thoughts he wouldn’t share. They walked to the landing pads in silence. A Duros pilot waved them over to a Mon Calamari provided light troop transport shuttle. He took a look at them, and said he’d wait for the good captain inside the ship.

Cassian finally looked at Jyn and spoke. “I know that this isn’t your movement. I know that all the flags are the same if you don’t look up. If you’re going to leave, please… wait for me. We destroy the planet killer, and then together-”

Jyn interjected, putting a hand on his arm without thinking. 

“I’m not going anywhere. That station needs to be destroyed. Then we’ll talk. A bunch of Partisan wannabes won’t scare me off.” 

 “They’re not all bad….” Cassian barked out a laugh, then continued, “do you think the Partisans will listen to your offer? We may need a bit of that fire soon.”

“I hope so. Tubes was always balanced out by Saw. Without him, I think we may hear about his activities soon. Or… you will. Find the Death Star, Cassian.”

“For Scarif, and Jedha.” Cassian didn’t add, for you. He thought about that as he boarded the ship, and as Jyn waited on the landing pad watching the ship recede into the distance, she thought about what home truly meant to her.