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“Maybe all we had has always been right
Think of all the love you gain when you send it over
Think of all the wool I’ve spun to be here tonight”
He had always prided himself in consummate professionalism. A good intelligence officer should not have any tells. They should never, under any circumstances, endanger the mission by falling for and sleeping with their partner. It was a very good thing, then, that Cassian was currently on furlough because he was failing miserably on both counts.
For the first time in many years, a mission—the mission—was not his responsibility. He would let others handle it. On Mon Mothma’s orders, no less! He silently admitted that he felt guilty for feeling so free and happy so soon after the events of Scarif, especially with the Princess still missing, but for once in his life, he would let himself enjoy this. He knew, instinctively, that the day would come when Draven would come looking for him again. Mothma could only make excuses so long.
He, Jyn, and the others had finally rested and healed enough to justify leaving the base at Yavin-4. Chirrut, in particular, seemed as a weight had been lifted. Between rounds of submersion in the Bacta tanks, surgery, and physical therapy, he had grown progressively more sullen. More than once, Jyn suggested that Chirrut likely didn’t appreciate living within the Massassi Base because it reminded him, darkly perhaps, of all he had lost on Jedha. All that changed, however, when they actually started venturing out together. They made regular excursions for an hour or two, while Chirrut cheerfully informing the brass that these trips were “to strengthen my legs” and a “necessary aspect of embracing the force”, when really the base was downtrodden and the mood—the crew of Rogue One aside—was quite depressing. Today, the group wanted to venture out to some old ruins, perhaps a three hour hike from the main temple. A pilot had seen them on a recent departure, and Jyn—Cassian assumed she was simply excited at the prospect of something to do—decided to organize a hike to find them. Cassian was able to even convince Kaytoo to join them, despite what Kay described as his “misgivings towards the environment, the climate, and also to a lesser extent, Jyn.”
“Kay, if you do not want to come along then by all means, stay in the temple and talk to the other droids. I am sure they are engaging company.” Cassian had been arguing with Kay for the better part of an hour as he and the others packed their rucksacks for the hike. They had all grabbed their respective things from their quarters, an extra changes of clothing, protein packs, and their weapons of choice. Kay, as always, stood nearby, hunched over, refusing to lift a hand.
“The damp Cassian. Yavin 4 is a jungle moon, Cassian. I have circuits. Damp is not the ideal environment for a droid. I could short circuit. Would you like that, Cassian? Would Jyn like for me to short circuit?”
“Would we get a little peace and quiet if you did?” questioned Cassian innocently, as he slipped an extra piece of fruit into his bag.
Kaytoo huffed, but he didn’t retort. He did, however, Cassian noticed, give a small kick to Jyn’s bag as soon as Cassian turned his back. Chirrut smiled and even Baze gave a small smirk. Jyn, on the other hand, shot the droid a look of annoyance and rested her hand upon her holster threateningly. Cassian pretended not to notice.
They set out in the earlier hours of the morning, before the base was awake. These days the base only became active in the afternoon, and even then fewer and fewer ships were leaving or arriving. Maybe the Alliance had given up hope of recovering the Princess and the plans? Cassian willed himself not to think of it. If he did, if he brought it up to the others, he would remind them that there was a war to fight. He really did not want to remind himself. They had earned this time, had they not? They would be forced back into reality soon enough.
Cassian expected that they would be back in action after their three week reprieve, if not sooner. Jyn had recovered first of anyone. She had badgered Mon Mothma to let her go exploring on her own. Cassian did not fault her for it. He would not have wanted her waiting day after day beside the bacta tanks for him to wake up. Mothma let her venture forth under the guise of “reconnaissance cartography”, which made Cassian snort when Jyn told him.
Though they had a destination, the crew of Rogue One were not above wandering and getting off track. They were not really lost, Bodhi noted, they were just inclined to ignore instructions. Chirrut insisted on a detour across a stream—Baze grudgingly carrying him on his back, grumbling all the way. Kaytoo insisted on stopping under large trees for shade. Whenever he was asked to clear vegetation or check the surroundings, Kaytoo always made sure to give a theatrical sigh aimed in Jyn’s direction. Jyn suspected that he took joy in slowing down their progression.
Jyn found it strange that they could go aimlessly wandering through the jungle for fun. When was the last time that she had truly had the free time for fun? Fun seemed frivolous compared to surviving and stealing Death Star plans. She supposed that escaping custody and stealing that imperial officer’s speeder had been pretty fun, if not strictlynecessary for survival. It also hadn’t been worth the jail sentence, but escaping that debacle had been enjoyable too.
Saw Gerrera teaching her to shoot for the first time had seemed fun at the time. She was so young that she couldn’t even be sure of what planet they had been on. She had felt so brave and old. Saw had declared her his best soldier, his best fighter. She had never been more proud. Retrospect painted a darker picture of child soldiers, desperation, and paranoia.
“Jyn,” he had croaked, “Stormtroopers will always want to harm you. You must not let them. Kill them first.”
She had time for fun on Lah'mu. Galen and Lyra had been doting parents despite the difficulty of farm life. She had been carefree then, running across loamy plains, jumping over streams rock to rock, terrifying her mother and making her father chuckle. Her Stormtrooper doll, Stormy, accompanied her for every adventure. What would Saw Gerrera have thought of that? Had she not lost Stormy on Lah’mu that day, she suspected that Saw would have done away with him, not even bothered with an excuse. As much as she loved him, Jyn knew that Saw never gave her the chance to be a child.
Maybe that was why she so enthusiastically encouraged the others to go exploring nearly every day. Secretly, she was afraid about being split up after their furloughs and recoveries were over. Those days were fast approaching, and with daily trips into the jungle it was hard to deny. Chirrut could only be so convincing. Even Mothma would ask them back eventually, her good faith run out, especially if the plans were truly lost…
She pushed those thoughts away and threw herself fully into the mission of finding the ruins. Jyn, brave, reckless, self-interested survivalist, always had to have a mission. Her new mission was not about surviving. It was about living. About letting herself to take the time she needed and about not letting time slip away too fast. She promised herself that she would not run from Cassian or the others. She didn’t know if Cassian had enough clout with Draven and Mothma to keep them all together, but she hoped…
After hiking for the entire morning and well into the afternoon, they came upon a cluster of ancient temples that could be miniatures of the great temple. The tallest of them couldn’t have been but half the size of the real thing, but it was still a curious site. The base on Yavin 4 was strangely modernized for the Alliance’s purposes, outfitted with screens, scanners, and a War Room. These temples, on the hand, were slowly being reclaimed by the earth. Vines wrapped around the stones, cracked and crippled. The ground hadn’t been trodden in a long while.
“What do the rocks look like, Baze?” Chirrut inquired, as he sat down.
“Rocks.”
Jyn left the others to bicker and grumble amongst themselves. She was struck by the urge not to run, but to climb. She ducked out of sight of the others and found a ledge that was high enough for her to jump for. She tightened the straps of her rucksack around her and took a leap. She didn’t expect to climb the entire way, of course, but she wanted to try. The ruins looked relatively sturdy. She hadn’t done much other than walk and hike since her recovery. Well. She and Cassian had certainly been recovered enough lately to enjoy their nights together. Still, she wanted to see if she could get the old Jyn back. The medical droids had pronounced her condition fair, but she still had twinges of pain and discomfort from the burns she received on Scarif.
She reached out to find a hold. After twenty minutes of climbing, she had to be nearly a thirty meters off the ground, but she didn’t turn around to check. Looking back, looking down, never the best idea. She pulled herself up onto a ledge, careful to grab for a crack in the stone and not a vine. From her vantage point, she could see the others in the clearing. Chirrut was sprawled out on the grass, head in Baze’s lap, his staff within reach. Bodhi sat under the shade of a tree nearby, eating and making conversation with Kaytoo, who slouched beside him. They were too far away and speaking too quietly for Jyn to understand, but she grinned nonetheless.
After a few minutes rest, and drifting dangerously towards sleep, she decided that the others might begin to worry. That is to say, Cassian would begin to worry. Just as she made a move to the edge, however, she heard a voice call up to her and she saw a hand appear over the precipice as it clawed for a hold.
“Coming up!”
With a heave of effort, Cassian hauled himself onto the ledge before Jyn could grab his arm.
“Being a little reckless, aren’t we, captain?” Jyn teased as she scooted over to make room for his lanky frame.
He was smiling at her and his eye were crinkling. She liked to think that he smiled for her most of all, that he smiled more for her in the past week than he had in years. Everything about him put her senses on edge. She could smell the scent of the hike and the climb. On anyone else it might have been offensive, on him it only added to his earthy appeal. His thin, yellow shirt clung to his skin. He shook his hair out of his eyes. The jungle was far from cold, but she felt the prickle of goosebumps on her arms. She crossed her arms to hide them. She tried, and failed, to push away thoughts that she liked to confine to the bedroom. She was damnably single minded.
“Hungry?” He inquired, feigning obliviousness.
“Yes, actually. But I forgot to pack food. I brought everything else I could possibly need. I brought two knives, an extra shirt and socks, a canteen. No food.”
As if on cue, he pulled two pieces of ripe Yavinian berry fruit out of his own rucksack and passed one to her. She took it gratefully from his hand and distracted her thoughts with the tart, tangy fruit.
“The others, they’ll be missing us.”
Jyn raised her eyebrow.
“Well, Kaytoo won’t miss you, but give him time.”
“It feels strange, doesn’t it? Time seems endless but somehow we’re still running out of it.”
Cassian threw what was left of his fruit over the ledge.
“What do you mean, Jyn?”
“We’ve been out exploring almost every day, pretending this is what life is like now. I think Mothma is only giving us this much time because she feels bad about what happened on Scarif. Only six of us survived. If we all died tomorrow in some mission, it would destroy morale here. And everyone’s morale is low enough as it is.”
Cassian turned so he was facing Jyn.
“Are you afraid that we won’t be together when we get our orders?”
“I’m afraid that we’re living on borrowed time.”
Cassian seemed to be weighing her woods carefully. In the silence, Jyn couldn’t help but admire his profile and his furrowed brow. The sun was beginning to set. The night got cooler. Cassian didn’t seem to notice.
“For a long time, I pretended that everything I have done in my life was justified because the Alliance or the Separatists told me it was so. I can’t really say if I deserve the chance at a brand new life. Better men than me died on Eadu and Scarif. But I don’t think I can make my old excuses any longer. You saw to that after Eadu. But I think we should enjoy this. It can’t be like for this forever, so why not enjoy it while we can?”
Jyn looked away from Cassian as she spoke.
“We could run. Take a ship, grab the others and go. Or just you and me. We’ve done our part in this. You’ve certainly done more than your part. There must be some little moon we could find, somewhere…”
It sounded desperately hollow to her own ears, even as her heart ached suddenly for Lah’mu. She had hoped that selfish part of her had been burned away, like her resentment towards Cassian and the grief for her father had been burned away on Scarif's beach.
“I don’t think you could do that, not now. Neither could I. We’ve spent our entire lives fighting. We couldn’t stop now if we tried. Perhaps the right word to Mothma or a promise to Draven would be enough. I can’t make promises, but there is a place here for us all if we stay.”
Jyn couldn’t tell if she was unconvinced or if she was still acclimating to listening to reason. Her initial impression of Cassian, all those weeks ago—it wasn’t nearly as long as it seemed—was that of a man deeply isolated. Devastatingly alone, completely committed. In the past few days, he had been happier than ever before, she was convinced. She could not leave him now, she would not. As much as Lah’mu rent her heart, she knew that her real home was right here. She had a cause, she had a purpose. She didn’t need to keep running forever, she could let herself stay still long enough to be happy. She hoped she could throw herself into living. “We won’t have to run to be together, Jyn. I’m sure of it.”
With that pronouncement, he leaned in to kiss her. Her immediate response was still fight or flight. Later she would put that adrenaline to good use. Jyn was soundly convinced that there was nothing as real as the two of them whenever he touched her. How could two people who had been so badly hurt love each other so tenderly? These moments were always transfixing, unbelievable, like she was floating and falling all at once. She wasn’t a person who stayed long enough to fall for anything, or anyone. Yet, here she was. She sat there, one hand cupping the side of his face, the other on his back. She felt his heart beating so clearly as she felt her own head spinning. Musky, a subtle hint of ash and soot, and grease from machinery. She wished they were miles away, back in Cassian’s bed
“What do you think they’re doing up there?” “Bodhi, there is a 95% chance that Jyn and Cassian are—” Jyn, not often flustered, suddenly realized how ridiculous they must look from below. Wrapped in each other’s arms, caught as if by disapproving parents. Cassian stole one last kiss before beginning his descent.
“Jyn, if you jump from that height, there is a 20% that I can catch you.”
After the hike, Cassian and Jyn had bade goodnight to the others to retire. Jyn had once been concerned that the other crew members would disapprove, but quickly discovered that her worries were largely unfounded. Baze after all, had quietly moved Chirrut’s things to his own quarters when the monk was still in bacta after Scarif. Jyn still kept her officially sanctioned room, of course. Sometimes she liked to think in solitude, and anyway, Bodhi liked to visit to talk privately.
Cassian peeled off shirt and placed it in the laundry chute before disappearing into the bathroom for a long shower. Jyn sat on Cassian’s bed and pulled off her muddy boots, throwing one, then the other, upon the floor. She told herself that she should clean them. Brush them off maybe? Put them in a corner at least. As it was, the room was barely spacious enough for two people. Between the mess and the cramped space, Jyn knew she’d become restless cooped up here for too long. Jyn glanced around.
“It was a lot cleaner before I came around, wasn’t it?”
Before Jyn began occupying his nights, Cassian had kept his meager possessions organized and close at hand. Now that Jyn spent the evenings with Cassian, her chronic messiness had slowly begun encroaching upon Cassian’s structured and systematic life. She could sleep in this room, obviously, but she couldn’t live here. She’d always have to find something to do. She no longer needed to run in order to live, but old habits die hard. Jyn didn’t much like dying anyway. She wondered how someone with so few possessions could be so messy. Then she remembered why she had so few possessions, and mentally promised to give Kaytoo a swift kick for dropping her bag back on Jedha.
He had the tact and the discipline of a soldier. She had the impulsivity and unruliness of Saw Gerrera’s best guerilla fighter. His clothing was always neatly folded in the drawers, her hastily discarded sleeping shirt from the night before was either wrapped up in the sheets or else haphazardly thrown under the bed. She smiled a little at the memory. Jyn doubted that Cassian cared about her chaos anymore.