Chapter Seventeen

When the rumors began, they were hard to stop. Whispers about a group that had once been proclaimed dead threaded themselves through various places, spreading like wildfire into intricate hallways, the mess hall, cabins and sleep areas, all by word of mouth.
The news was shocking. Most of the military high command and the seniors, lieutenants and flight captains, even small soldier squadrons that patrolled ships and actively fought on the front lines, had heard: Rogue One was back. It was unknown what method was used to reach Yavin 4, but Rogue One had nonetheless returned with a vendetta, vengeance to defeat the Empire and its super weapon.

As 5 pairs of feet lined up at the hangar's entrance, jaws went slack and expressions were wide with awe, or for some, scorn.
Gazes followed Jyn, Cassian, and others as the haggard individuals stepped towards the main meeting room where Mon Mothma and the others were sure to be. They weren't likely to be welcomed or accepted, looking odd and out of place amidst the bustling commotion around them.

The noises quickly faded into quiet as a different set of doors opened to reveal a huddle of officials looking at a datapad, machines whirring in the background. One, two of them turned to see who had disrupted the meeting. The duo that had done so were confused upon seeing the Rogue One team standing in the doorway, urging the others to look up. Mon Mothma was there. And so were some other, familiar faces, who unlike the first two council members, immediately recognized the rag tag group of rebels.

"Jyn Erso!" One man in the brown military uniform - Draven - spat the name with contempt as he left the datapad and stormed over to where the group stood. "What is she doing here?"

Cassian stepped forward in response. "She's with me."
Draven looked him up and down, shaking his head as if he still couldn't believe he was alive. "Andor." The name was spoken as if were foreign. Unused for a while. "Andor," he repeated, with greater certainty. "You survived Scarif. We lost communication with you, and thought you were dead."

"I'm here now, aren't I?" Cassian's voice was clipped.


By this time, the other officials had joined Draven's side, silently watching the exchange between commander and his equal.

Draven nodded. If he had picked up on Cassian's icy tone, he didn't show it. "You may have survived Scarif," he began. "But the others shouldn't have. They could have been left behind. He motioned to the four behind Cassian. She and the other scum are not fit to belong." He finished the barrage of comments with a snarl.

Mon Mothma, who had been only listening upon the group's arrival, didn't blink. As Draven was about to throw another complaint into the air, the senator only held up a hand - firm, commanding, and her subordinate was forced to fall silent.
The woman stepped forward, head and stature held in almost a regal pose, one that demanded respect. She directed a pointed look at Draven, and met Cassian's gaze levelly.

"You didn't tell us you were coming back."

Cassian was lost for words. He wasn't deceived by the light tone Mon Mothma had used. Her stern look sent a different message, and he couldn't bring himself to speak when he looked into her eyes. Reproaching himself more and more was starting to be a habit. He tensed for a second when he sensed someone had joined his side, but quickly relaxed upon knowing it was just Jyn.

While Cassian hadn't known what to say, Jyn had already spoken up. "We've come to finish what we've started."

Mothma didn't need any further elaboration. "The Death Star."
After that comment, the only sound left in the room was the whirring of a few computers and machines. She spoke again:

"Very well. Follow me. The rest of you are dismissed."
While Mothma walked out of the meeting center, the officials dispersing, the others looked at each other. The chill of the room left them all feeling somewhat unnerved by the critical reception they had received. The five followed the senator, who led them down a gray corridor, pale windows providing views of ships soaring in the galaxy outside. Jyn wished she could be out there instead of here.

Two astromech droids, almost the same color as the surrounding walls with the exception of some red and yellow - were waiting for them on the other side of the hallway. Mothma acknowledged the two droids, then turned to the five.
"The droids will lead you into your quarters. You will stay here for recuperation. Once we decide what to do, we will let you know as soon as we can. Cassian. I'd like to have a word with you, please. Come to my office." With a graceful sweep of her dress, the senator disappeared first, around a slight bend and along a straight hallway.

He nodded, then began to walk down the same path Mon Mothma had taken. Halfway through his third or fourth step, Cassian paused. He wanted to turn around and see the others again. To look into their eyes and reassure them that he would be okay, that everything would be fine. He wondered whether they could care less about him. He could imagine his team standing together, one unit against all of the rest. Cassian felt he should have stood there too, let himself get swept away to a place where he could rest and regather his thoughts. But he wasn't simply an outsider. He was a respected individual of the Rebellion, and he had a heavy responsibility to fulfill none of the others had.
He went against what he wanted to do; the brief pause overtaken by his mind's command to walk. So Cassian took more steps forward, ignoring his emotions and donning his spy face - the expression that masked his true self.
Eyes trained on the front. One gray tile after another, until Cassian couldn't see the difference anymore; it was all blurred lines. Straight ahead...
No, he had to stop. A feeling in his chest made him turn slightly back.
Whomever he was searching for, it was futile to even try. He felt a dull ache thudding in his chest, and it carved a hollow space in him: Nothing existed in the space - just an empty hallway.


Behind closed doors, Mon Mothma shed her hardened exterior. Her face looked weary, seeming to take on additional years past her age. Earlier, while her look had been intense, now her blue eyes were kind as she addressed Cassian.

"We had no signal that told us of your arrival. This was quite unexpected."

"We wanted to keep it a surprise."

Mon Mothma smiled briefly at the attempt for humor.
"The Death Star would have caused all of you to perish..." the words came out as half statement, half question.

"I'm not sure what happened either," Cassian said. "All I know was that there was a golden light to protect us." He didn't mention that it was Chirrut who had created the light. The Rebellion didn't need to know. "It was a miracle that we even survived."

"Yes, indeed it is." A hint of wistfulness threaded its way into her comment. "And the others? The last of the news we heard from that planet was that majority of the red, blue, and gold teams had been sacrificed." Stepping behind a neatly organized desk, Mon Mothma gestured for Cassian to sit. And so he did.
"Your mission to Scarif, while unauthorized, has brought the Alliance some promising results. The plans you and your team have provided were given to Leia."
Leia. He knew that name. The princess whose origin was from Alderaan, who rose steadily among the ranks of the Alliance until she had become well known and respected as a rebel leader. Reserved, yet forthright and outspoken when need be, Leia was the ideal candidate for managing diplomatic relations between the Alliance and other planets. The high praise she garnered from the Alliance senators and other staff had not fed her ego; she remained steadfast and down to earth, humble and diligent towards her people and her duty. The baton from the desperate race had been passed on, from shaky hands to steady ones. His anxiety was alleviated.

It was the sentence Mon Mothma told him afterward that chilled his blood.
"Leia, however, has been taken ahold by an Imperial Starship. We have no intelligence to inform us of whether the information remains with her, or whether it too, has been taken captive. Perhaps the plans were taken off the ship before they were captured - The Tantive does contain escape mechanisms - but at this point, there is not much else to say apart from speculation."

The trump card, the ace of spades, the Alliance's hope, might have just disappeared into the unknown. Cassian wanted to leap out of his chair and demand answers, but exhaustion and respect for his superior kept him rooted to the spot. The news swirled in his mind haphazardly, data rearranging, his weary brain trying to find a gap to enter the information into. "There's nothing we can do, then?"
Mon Mothma replied, "There is. The Alliance is attempting to locate the position of the starship and send a rescue team to retrieve the Princess. For now, we can only do well with what we have. While we await for further detail, you will continue to supervise the operation of our Intelligence. As for those you came back with...."

The senator remained standing as she addressed the Rogue One team next. "I am not certain of their place here. A defector from the Empire, loyal to Galen Erso. Two Guardians, and Erso's daughter." She fixed Cassian with a questioning gaze. "Do they have any place to go, at this point?"
Cassian remained silent. Mon Mothma had asked a question not meant to be answered. He was aware she knew there wasn't another safe planet for the others to call home.
"We promised to set her free, did we not?" Mon Mothma cast Cassian a glance. He knew who Mothma was talking about.

Cassian recalled flashes of memory - Jyn coolly asking, "And if I do it?" the subsequent reply, "We'll make sure you go free." Freedom to bolt for, no chains to tie Jyn back. But then he remembered how her demeanor had shifted from ignorance and indifference to boldness against the Empire. Her last statement, in the cave on the beach, was confirmation, the words from her lips: "they'll need our help." Cassian saw Jyn did want to help. She could turn a blind eye to the Alliance if she wanted, but only by being a part of it could she do something to defeat the Empire. Otherwise, the rebel could return to her old life, never looking up, waiting for someone or something to end her existence. He decided to speak for her, in her place. "I don't think Jyn would want to leave --- Not now," he amended quickly. Something in his expression must have swayed Mon Mothma, for her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Although she has been seen as a liability by those around her, and even by me at one point, now I believe there is value in having her stay. The Rebellion has been fractured for so long," Cassian reminded Mon Mothma. "Isn't it time for it to be unified by courage and bravery?"
"Bravery and courage, yes," came the reply, "but the Rebellion has no place for recklessness." Mon Mothma's eyes flashed in challenge to his statement. "Will her character be a force to guide the Alliance forward or lead it to downfall?"

Faced with that question, Cassian didn't know. His impression of Jyn had changed, but his knowledge of her was still limited.

 The woman cloaked in white exhaled audibly. "You are one of the best leading officers in my cadre,  in the unit." Mon Mothma said, a tinge of pride distinguishable within the sentence. She had a high degree of respect for him, as he did her. "If you insist that they stay, I will not stop you. They have skills that might prove useful for the rebellion. But you have seen how others have acted towards them."

She hadn't said it out loud, but Cassian knew what she was referring to. The hushed tones of the officials, general Draven with his open hostility, gasps of surprise and shock from those that had seen the five arriving through the towering ziggurat, one of the main bases housing the Alliance.
"I am aware, Senator. Despite what the others say, the group means no harm. I can assure you of this. Jyn merely wishes to see to the end of the Death Star, and the others are only there on her behalf."

"I can see you five work well with each other. We will find a place for them in this rebellion, as we need all the help we can get. His assertiveness earlier caused doubt to shift to thoughtfulness.  "I will trust your judgement."
A surge of relief swept through Cassian. He no longer had to feel worried for them. Mon Mothma was fair in deciding to give them all a chance. Since when had he been the one to worry?
"You may return to your room. It must have been a tough journey. Rest. You've earned it. Catching up can commence later."

"Thank you." The weight of the day's turmoil lifted, tumbling off of his shoulders, forgotten on the ground, as he stood up. As Cassian was about to step out the door, he heard one last phrase from the woman in white. "Cassian. It seems you've changed." She didn't elaborate further as she looked at him. And was that a smile? What does she mean by that? 

Though he was confused, all Cassian could do in response was nod, and he left the office room, putting the gesture to the back of his mind. Mon Mothma stood at a window, pondering things nobody else knew while looking at the skyline, where white streaks of clouds hung low and touched the red horizon.