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Mon hadn't left the communications room for a second. Ever since the private approached her shouting that the Rebels were on Scarif, she hadn't moved. Draven was beside her, staring intently at the screens, listening to the transmissions with a serious face, attentive to every movement.
"We have the plans!" someone shouted joyfully. "Admiral Raddus received the transmission."
The entire room erupted in cheers and applause. Mon sighed with relief and sat back in her chair, unable to stop herself. She still couldn't get used to this kind of adrenaline rush. These days had been too much for her; there were days when the Senate seemed easier in comparison.
She shared a look with Draven, and he gave her a small smile. His expressions had eased, like hers, and his eyes also seemed joyful. Mon knew they were both on the same page regarding the Rebellion, despite some differences. At first, he wasn't sure of Cassian's story about the Empire's new weapon, but when he finally believed him, like Mon, he knew they couldn't delay the war any longer. The rest of the committee didn't want to go along with Jyn Erso's plan to go to Scarif, so Mon had no choice but to say no, but both she and Draven wanted this to happen; they knew it was necessary. A war was only won by fighting.
However, the happiness in the room didn't last long.
"A massive object has entered orbit!" a woman shouted, putting a hand over her earpiece, as if unsure of what she was hearing.
"It's the weapon... the Death Star," the voice of the poor man next to her trembled with fear.
Mon stood up immediately, a chill running down her spine. If what Luthen had discovered was real, if the weapon was truly destructive, there was no hope for any of their soldiers. Not for the Rebellion, if those plans didn't arrive safely at the base.
“Fired at Scarif. Mass destruction.”
A deathly silence filled the place. No one uttered a word when one of the soldiers activated the intercom on the loudspeaker, and everyone could hear what was happening above the skies of Scarif. The communication would give her nightmares for the rest of her days; it was mostly screams, screams of pain, of despair, screams that announced imminent death. Apparently, while part of the planet was being mercilessly annihilated, and the rebel fleet tried to escape with the plans, a Star Destroyer came out of hyperspace, preventing most of them from escaping.
Suddenly, Admiral Raddus's communication cut out, only the sound of static could be heard.
Mon did her best not to show her fear, to keep her legs from giving in and collapsing right there. She knew the Empire's cruelty; after all, the Ghorman Genocide had finally forced her to leave the Senate. She knew what they were capable of, and for 20 years, she had watched their cruelty grow and grow. But now the genocides won't even be carried out in person; now they have a weapon for that. And that made her nauseous. The level of dehumanization they had reached, where killing living beings didn't even require soldiers, the idea of a weapon made only for annihilation, crushed her heart.
"Who was saved?" she asked, her voice unsteady, as if each word was struggling to leave her throat. Automatically, she thought of Cassian and Jyn. If they hadn't managed to board a ship in time, they would have no chance of getting out alive.
"The plans. Where are the plans?" Draven asked simultaneously, desperately. Where the Senator was more "sentimental," thinking only of the lives of their soldiers, the General was more pragmatic. The important thing now was the plans.
"Tentive IV," someone shouted from the other end of the operating table. Everyone turned to look at him. "They jumped into hyperspace. The frigate Profundity was disabled, but they managed to escape on the corvette. The plans are safe."
There was a collective relief as everyone breathed again. Some applause and cheers were heard, but all Mon could think about was that this was Leia's frigate. Carrying the Death Star plans was too much responsibility for someone so young. She knew Bail trusted his daughter with his life, and so did she. She knew firsthand how competent and brave she was, but she also knew the Empire wouldn't let her go so easily, and that didn't stop her from worrying.
"Senator, there's work to be done," Draven said, snapping her out of her thoughts. Mon looked at him, focusing his gaze on him, and nodded. “The fleets will arrive any moment.”
“We need to prepare the medical bays,” she murmured, trying to get her brain working again and focused on the moment. The Empire had a weapon that could destroy entire cities in minutes. If they didn't get those plans, it would be the end of the Rebellion. Wouldn't it be horrible to be done before you even started? “Casualty count and… supply count. Escape plan.”
“The Empire won't let the corvette escape so easily.” He was worried. As long as the plans weren't here with them, he would be worried.
“I know. The war has begun, General, for real this time.” Mon knew this day would come; in fact, she was waiting for it. There had come a time, after Ghorman, when she understood that words weren't enough; morale had to be turned into action, otherwise it was pure vanity. She finally understood that they couldn't wait any longer, that the only way to win was by fighting, and the time had come.
The communicators crackled again; the rebel fleets were entering the atmosphere, reporting in one by one. While Draven went out to the hangar to see them in person, she stayed in the room, listening, waiting for someone to name Rogue One, waiting to hear Cassian's voice announcing their arrival, or some comment from K2, anything to indicate the team was alive. But that never happened.
"All ships are here, ma'am."
With a knot in her stomach, she walked toward the hangar. The noise around her was deafening. She felt like she couldn't even focus on her steps. There were people running around her, destroyed X-Wings landing on the pavement, people shouting directions, droids gliding swiftly. It was the first time she'd seen the war firsthand, finally reaching her door and hitting her with all its force.
Mon stopped next to Draven at the entrance; he was looking at the U-Wings. She sensed he was thinking the same thing as her.
“He’s not here, is he?” she asked softly.
The General flinched slightly; he hadn’t heard her arrive at his side. He turned his head and looked at her sadly for a second. “No.”
Amid all the bustle surrounding them, silence fell for a moment as their gazes met and they understood what this meant. Just as the Rebellion grew every day, they also lost friends every day.
“He always sacrificed himself for others; it makes sense that this would be the end for him.” She felt tears welling in her eyes, but she didn’t want to appear weak in front of her General. She knew that some in this place still considered her naive and unqualified to lead a rebellion. She didn’t want to entertain those thoughts, but she couldn’t help but feel something breaking inside her. Just when she thought she was used to the pain, something new showed her otherwise.
To her surprise, Draven said nothing; he just looked at her, without pity or judgment. “Take a moment. I can take care of it.” He knew the Senator had some sort of friendship or connection with Captain Andor. He didn’t know if it was because he rescued her from the Senate, or because they both knew Luthen Rael, or because they simply liked each other, but he knew his death was shocking to her.
Mon nodded, truly grateful for the gesture, and without realizing it, she began to walk quickly away from the hangar. For a second, she remembered what Cassian had told her when they first met, "Don't run," then she stopped. She had been so terrified the day she met him, she wasn't even sure if she could trust him, but he had been kind, had taken her hand and run with her, had calmed her in her despair and thus saved her life, because that was who he was, always had been. A good man.
She began to walk slowly toward the jungle. She needed to talk to her cousin. On the one hand, because she had to break the news herself, but on the other, because she needed her comfort, someone who understood her pain. She was so tired of delivering bad news. Just a week ago, Luthen died, and now Cassian, added to the terror of the Death Star and how uncertain her future seemed right now. Tears came to her eyes again, but this time she let them fall, let them sting her eyes and trickle down her cheeks.
For the first time in years, Mon had found her fun again. Yes, she was in a war, hiding from the Empire in a rebel base, but for the first time, she could have fun without fear, she could speak privately without having to mince her words, or she could relax without expecting someone from the ISB to be right behind her. Shortly after arriving in Yavin, when she still wasn't comfortable with her surroundings, when she was still learning to find her place here, Vel took her to a game night at Cassian and Melshi's cabin. She couldn't remember the last time she laughed as much as she did that night. At first, it had been a little awkward because Melshi could only see her as the Senator, as the leader of the Rebellion, and not as just another fellow rebel, a simple woman who wanted to think about something other than the war, just for a little while. But when the alcohol began to take effect and the laughter began to come, everyone relaxed and had fun, especially at K2's expense. His sarcasm could be so funny. She thoroughly enjoyed those nights because they reminded her of something she'd lost during her time in the Senate: camaraderie and friendship without any ulterior motives. She could truly feel herself when she was with them, she could laugh regardless of their mannerisms, she could tell funny stories about the Senate, she could feel a little more alive.
But now it was all over, because Cassian was dead, and probably Melshi too, because all the Empire knew how to do was take things away, take and take and take until there was nothing left of them, until they were reduced to ash. But Mon wouldn't allow that, she would fight to the end, she would make it worth it, she had promised him.
She had arrived at the cabin too quickly, she didn't even notice how, but suddenly she was in the small living room. Vel was sitting at the table, holding a cup of tea as she looked at her datapad. New recruits arrived every day, and she was in charge of organizing them, classifying them according to their skills, and dividing up their training. She immediately looked up when she heard footsteps enter the room, but when she saw her cousin's shining eyes and damp cheeks, she jumped up from her seat.
“Scarif?” she asked directly. She knew about the mission, obviously, but she knew she wouldn't be much help in the command room, so she preferred to focus on her work here where she could actually do something. “Didn't they get the plans?” She thought the worst.
“We did it.” There was no joy in her voice, even though she wanted to, she simply couldn't. “Leia Organa is on the run with them right now.”
“So…” she circled the table to reach her, her patience growing less and less.
“It's Cassian, Vel.” She gently shook her head, and a single tear slid down her cheek. “He didn't make it.”
Unlike her cousin, Vel didn't move a muscle; her face remained indifferent, staring into space, as if frozen.
“In order to transmit the plans, it was necessary to explode the planet's shield. It took them a while, but they managed to do it. The last transmission we have is from the defecting imperial pilot who was part of Cassian's group. He said they needed to breach the shield…” Mon's voice was monotonous, as if reciting something from memory. “When the frigate received the plans, the… the weapon, the… The Death Star appeared and…” she could hear the screams that were transmitted from the command room, the absolute terror in those people's voices.
Kleya and Luthen were right, they were right all along, Vel thought. If it weren't for them, they would never have discovered the weapon's existence, and they would never have found these plans. And to think that the stupid committee didn't want to believe Cassian and Kleya.
“It destroyed the planet, Vel. He didn't make it out.”
Vel threw her metal cup against the wall with a guttural cry of pain, and the liquid spilled onto the floor. She was so tired of seeing people die. She covered her face with her hands and took a deep breath, trying not to think about the fact that she was the last survivor of Aldhani, that none of those responsible for that mission that changed the course of the Rebellion were still alive, that little by little, all those recruited by Luthen were dying. She was tired of the pain. Sometimes she wished it had been her, that she could have traded places with any of them so she wouldn't have to suffer anymore. Sometimes she just wanted it to be over and for others to take care of it.
Mon approached and hugged her. At first, her cousin tensed, but she didn't hesitate, didn't move away, just continued holding her, tightening her arms around her. There was nothing she could say, no words of encouragement, of hope, of comfort. All she could offer was a hug. Something to remind her that she wasn't alone, that she was here, and always would be.
"I'm so tired, Mon," she whispered, finally wrapping her arms around her cousin and collapsing against her. Her voice cracked, and she allowed herself to be comforted. "I can't stand any more deaths."
"I know." She rubbed her back gently, feeling her weight against her, trying to ease some of her burden. "I know." She wished she could do something to prevent it, find some solution, but death was inevitable for people like them; it was part of the deal.
“I told you he should stop saving people,” she growled, suddenly a little annoyed with Cassian for being such a hero.
Mon smiled sadly, unable to help it. “He couldn't; it was in his nature.”
“And now he's dead.”
They stood like that for a moment, simply cuddling in that small room, in each other's arms. Mon stepped back and placed a hand on Vel's cheek. Her skin was slightly damp and her eyes were bright. She gave him a small smile. The immense joy of having her with her calmed her fear a little. She stepped away to make some tea in silence, and Vel sat back down, watching her cousin work.
“He has a son, you know?” she said after taking her first sip of tea. She couldn't stop thinking about Bix, about how she would tell her that the person she loved was dead.
Mon almost choked on her own tea. “What are you talking about?”
“Andor has a son,” she repeated, as if that was the part her cousin hadn't understood.
“Where? Was he aware of that?” Mon assumed he wasn't. After a year of knowing him, it must have come up in conversation at some point. She remembers them talking about Leida one night. “With the woman who left him?” She knew very little about her, only that she was his childhood friend, that she had lived with him in the Luthen safe house, and that one day she left without looking back. She never asked why.
“Bix, yes. She left a year ago. Cassian wanted to leave the Rebellion, wanted to live quietly with her on some forgotten planet in the Outer Rim, but that couldn't happen. We needed him here.” And how right they were. If it weren't for him, they wouldn't have gotten those plans.
Mon closed her eyes. She already knew where this story was going. Sacrifice. The Rebellion was based on the sacrifice of everyone involved; there was no room for personal gain. "And she left so he wouldn't have to choose. She didn't give him a choice," she ventured.
Vel nodded and stood up from the table. “I need something stronger.” She walked to a shelf and picked up a glass bottle. “I don’t know if she knew she was pregnant when she left.” took a small glass and filled it with transparent liquid. “I only know that when I contacted her a few months ago to see if she was okay, I heard a child crying.” She downed the shot in one gulp, was so used to it that it barely burned her throat. She offered the empty glass to her cousin with a gesture.
“No, I have to get back to command.” She watched carefully to see if she would pour another one. She knew she wanted to, but was glad when she didn’t.
“I promised her I wouldn’t tell Cassian. That her secret was safe with me.” She put the bottle back in its place and sat back down regretfully, as if her entire body weighed tons. “But you know I promised her too?” She smiled sarcastically but above all with sadness. "That when all this was over, I would tell him where to find her." She remained silent, trying not to let her voice crack, but she looked down, holding back her tears. Cassian died without knowing there was a child waiting for him, that there was proof of the love he and Bix had for each other, a family waiting for him. "Now I must tell her that he is dead and that his son will not have a father"
"No," Mon said firmly. Vel raised her head in surprise at the firmness of her words. “No. You will tell her that Cassian sacrificed himself for the Rebellion. You will tell her that the father of her child is a hero, a good man who gave his life so that his son could live in peace, a peace none of us know. That he fought tooth and nail until the last second of his life for his ideals, for a better galaxy, that he sacrificed everything so that this weapon would not be used on innocent people. But above all, Vel, you will tell her that his sacrifice was worth it. I will fight every day, and every night, for the rest of my life to make that happen.” She stood up from her chair with determination; she had somewhere to go. “Now I must return to command. There is work to be done. Those plans must reach us, and the Death Star must be destroyed. I owe it to Cassian.” Her eyes were shining again, but this time with determination. All of this had to be worth it, all this death had to mean something; they couldn't lose.
Vel looked at her cousin, filled with pride, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You'll never stop making senator speeches, will you?” she mocked, folding her arms over her chest in amusement.
Mon smiled back, looking at her for a moment. Suddenly, she was overcome by the fear of losing her. She wouldn't know what she would do if she lost her; she was the only one she had, the only true love she knew, the only one capable of making her smile these days. Mon spent too much time worrying about Vel, away from her without any news, without knowing if she was alive or dead, hurt or scared, but now they were together, now they could see each other every day, have breakfast or dinner together, spend some nights in each other's rooms drinking until nightfall. She had found a peace on Yavin that she had lost on Coruscant, and she was terrified of losing her too.
“Mon,” Vel warned her, as if she could read her mind, as if she had noticed the fear in her eyes. “I'll be okay.”
“Will we see a new dawn?” She felt like a small, insecure girl, standing in front of her cousin, asking for something neither of them knew could be fulfilled. At this very moment, the Death Star plans weren't in their hands yet; that very weapon could be pointed at them and wipe them out in that instant.
"We will," Vel assured her with a certainty she didn't know where she got it from. Perhaps Mon had inspired her; she always had that effect on her, inspired things in her she didn't have. But her cousin believed her.
They will do everything they can to see another dawn, they will fight to the end for the freedom of the Galaxy, for victory. They will make Cassian's sacrifice worth it, not only for him, but for their son, and for all those who sacrificed so the Rebellion could continue. Mon will make it worth it.