Chapter Text
We’ll take the next chance. And the next.
The pungent smell of residual smoke left after bombs and blasterfire marred the crisp air of the forest moon. The sky overhead was littered with millions of stars that weren’t stars- chunks of debris, the last remaining memories of the Death Star. A testament to a fallen Empire.
To the rebels on the forest moon, the sulphurous air tasted like victory.
Until we’ve won.
Every fibre of her body ached from the exertion of battle on the ground, and her ribs felt crushed not because of the battle but because of Kes Dameron’s bantha-hug when the Death Star had exploded— she’d just happened to be the nearest pathfinder present.
Or all the chances are spent.
But right now, she would let it slide. There were bigger thoughts in her head, a confused jumble of elation and dread, anticipation and nerves. Her heart beating too fast in her chest. Her imagination doing time skips, fantasising the uncertain future and reminiscing on the past, wondering how the hell she’d made it this far.
We’ve won.
Jyn lost track of time, and although the day progressed into evening and their troops moved out of the forest cover, nobody had quite wrapped their heads around the magnitude of the situation. The newer recruits, fresher faces that hadn’t been in this war for as long, were the first to start celebrating, the first to lower their guard.
The veterans didn’t dare believe it just yet. Those in the middle, people she knew by name or rank, tried to restore order among the celebrating rebels, though occasionally one of them would fall into the snare of believing it was finally over and cry or shout in elation.
It felt like walking underwater, her every limb heavier than it needed to be. She didn’t know which category she belonged to. She’d been a part of the rebellion since its first significant victory— it was difficult to believe she was still around for its most significant.
Subconsciously, Jyn knew what- or who- she was pushing through the mighty current in search of. There was only one face she needed to see, to figure where she stood. Only one seasoned rebel whose judgement she trusted to follow to the four ends of the galaxy.
“Erso!”
Jyn turned around, as fast as the water would allow. She caught sight of a battered Han Solo waving her over to a stack of ammunition crates. She forced her feet to alter course, enough to meet him halfway. “What do you want?”
Han grinned, as if he was one of those new recruits that didn’t understand how fragile peace could be.
“Andor came around looking for you. Hadn’t seen you around, so I directed him to the medical tents.” Han’s jubilant expression sobered a fraction. “You’d better go show your face before he assumes the worst.”
“Fuck,” swore Jyn, turning on her heel and making a beeline for the direction of the tents. The last thing she needed was for Cassian to fear she was dead, not after they’d made it this far…
Heart in her throat, she came to a stop in the passage between the two tents, looking around with urgency for a familiar brown jacket, or a blue parka. The injured were being carried to the tents, but Jyn relaxed fractionally when she didn’t notice any fatal cases. There certainly had to be, but right now there weren’t any where she could see them, and she was grateful for the lives not spent, because she couldn’t well imagine coming so close to victory to be robbed of the chance to enjoy it.
“Jyn.”
There it was- the blue parka, and the only soldier she wanted to see. He was in front of her before she knew it, pulling her into an embrace as strong and firm as the relief they both felt deep within their bones, and they…stayed that way. For a short eternity.
Cassian hadn’t been allowed on Endor, considered too much of a high-risk asset to be used on a ground mission. That hadn’t stopped her from going. He’d looked pained but he hadn’t argued. This was something she needed to do for herself.
“You made it,” said Cassian, a little breathlessly, which was uncharacteristic coming from him. Jyn realised a beat later that it was only dissipation of worry at seeing her alive and in one piece. She pulled back halfway, not losing her hold on him.
“We did,” she corrected him, and drank in the sight of his responding grin, something brighter and more beautiful than anything she’d ever seen.
Paying no heed to the watching eyes, giving not a single damn about who saw, Cassian cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. Over and over again, letting her taste the smile at the edges of his mouth, feel the relief and victory and hope radiating off of him.
She knew where she stood now.
They were among those rebels who dared to hope. Who believed that the war was finally nearing its end, that the tables were turning in their favour.
She rested her forehead against his, leaning into his touch like a lifeline.
“I meant it,” he whispered, so softly she nearly missed it.
“What did you mean?”
She’d get lost in those eyes if she wasn’t careful. Cassian didn’t break her gaze when he said it.
“All the way.”
Hope burned like the birth of a star in her heart and Jyn thought, yes.
All the way.
Tomorrow, they’d ship out, retreat somewhere the headless Empire couldn’t track them down while they rallied every world that would now support their cause to fend off what was left of the brutal regime. It would be a process of several years, and there was no telling how it would go.
But as for right now, she was home again.
