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emilykat-artblog18 · 8 months

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The Other Port

(Chapter 3)

.:: The Little Door ::.

The rope had slipped out of Ten Cents’ hands as the wind and tide made the tramper go adrift, everyone grew frantic.

“THE ROPE!!” Tillie cried out.

Sunshine, who had snapped out of his distracted state from seeing the cat, turned to see what was going on.

In a blind panic, Sunshine ran and grabbed onto the rope as it continued to slip through his fingers at a fast rate but eventually he got a full grip onto it.

“I got it!” Sunshine called out, “Ten Cents give Sunshine a hand and pull the tramper back!” OJ commanded.

Ten Cents ran behind Sunshine and grabbed onto the rope. Both did their best to pull the rope back. The other Stars in their tugboats all did their best to push the tramper back to the dock. In a panic, Tillie let go of her rope and ran over to help Ten Cents and Sunshine.

“Wait, Tillie!” called OJ, who was now beginning to lose his hold on his rope. But Tillie wasn’t listening, she grabbed onto the rope from the stern of the tramper and aided the other younger Star members, “C’mon we got this, keep pulling!” strained Tillie, and slowly but surely they gained control and it wasn’t long before they managed to tie the tramper safely to the dock.

Meanwhile OJ was still struggling to keep his grip on the bow’s rope, before he could fall into the ocean, the young members of my company came to his aid, “Don’t worry OJ, we’ve got you”, Ten Cents assured him, OJ didn’t reply, but eventually the four managed to get the front of the tramper secured to the dock.

Everyone heaved a sigh of relief, “See, I told you we had this,” Ten Cents proclaimed.

O.J. for a moment didn’t say anything, he let go of the rope and limped off to a nearby bench clenching his back. “O.J.?...” the port had seemingly gone quiet.

I wasn’t pleased when I heard what had happened at the port that day, and I had a stern word with my youngest members. “I’m very disappointed in you, Sunshine, you’re usually a lot more careful with your jobs”

“I’m very sorry Captain,” Sunshine said, taking off his hat, “You should be, thanks to your actions, O.J. won't be able to return to work with us and now the Zeros are going to have to help us.”

“But at least we didn’t lose the contract to that tramper, Captain,” pleaded Tillie, “That's besides the point,” I snapped, “We could still potentially lose the contract now that the Zeros are helping, And they could take it beneath our noses, you know how they can be.”

“Yes sir,” Ten Cents, Tillie, and Sunshine agreed in unison, “As punishment, starting tomorrow morning, I’m putting you three to work with Skuttlebutt Pete, scraping barnacles at pier 3.”

“Oh no not Pier 3 sir,” moaned Ten Cents

“My orders are final Ten Cents, if you complain any longer, I’ll come up with an even worse punishment,” now I can tend to be hard on my employees when they mess up, but as they walked out of my office to the employee lounge, I couldn’t help but feel I had been a little too hard on them.

Sunshine looked down at his hand still stinging rope burn and sighed, “I really messed up big time today guys, I’m sorry.”

“Sunshine it’s not…” Tillie paused for a moment being careful with her words, “Well… It's my fault as well. I saw you two were in trouble and I wanted to help but I left O.J to his own devices. H-He’s badly hurt now and…” Tillie went quiet, having to feel very guilty to the point where she felt like she was drowning in a sea of her own words.

“Tillie…” Ten Cents tried to comfort her

“No this is really all my fault”, whimpered Sunshine, “I got distracted by that cat, if i wasn’t so absentminded none of this would have happened.”

“Okay enough with the pity party, I know it's been a really bad day for us because some mistakes were made but we can’t let our guilt get to us… I know you tried to help, Tillie and that’s okay. I'm sure O.J. will get better soon and things will improve as well, I’m sure of it.” Ten Cents reassured, Tillie gave a small smile, but Sunshine was still not convinced, he had a lot still on his mind.

He only gave a sigh of distress as he walked upstairs leaving Tillie and Ten Cents behind.

“Oi Sunshine, where are you going?”

“I’m going to my bunk… I want to be left alone…” Sunshine quavered.

Tillie and Ten Cents looked at each other feeling worried for their friend.

“You think we should..?” started Tillie

“I know he wants to be alone but… we shouldn’t leave him feeling sorry for himself.”

“Right,” agreed Tillie.

Both headed up to check up on Sunshine. Once they reached the doors to the barracks, Ten Cents knocked quietly not wanting to alarm Sunshine.

“Hey Sunshine, I know you wanted us to leave you alone but we wanted to be beside you to comfort you.” Tillie spoke softly as they waited for an answer yet there was none. Ten Cents tried knocking again.

“Sunshine, are you okay?” Tillie asked, sounding more worried but what they didn’t expect was the sound of pacing from inside the room like someone was searching for something.

“Sunshine?” Ten Cents asked, grabbing the doorknob and was surprised, realizing that it was open. As he and Tillie entered, they saw Sunshine searching throughout the entire room for something.

“What are you doing?” queried Tillie, “Ten Cents!” Sunshine turned to face Ten Cents

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Ten Cents, the other doll is missing!” Sunshine exclaimed frantically

“What?! What do you mean it’s gone?”

“It’s not on the nightstand where I left it.”

“Did you look everywhere?”

“I did before you guys arrived, but it’s just not here.”

Tillie stood in confusion, “I’m sorry but what’s this about another doll?”

“It’s something me and Sunshine found in the old storage room.”

“You think it could be somewhere else?”

“What are you suggesting? The doll got up and walked around the Star Fleet Headquarters?” snapped Ten Cents

“I don’t know, maybe, but it doesn’t hurt to try searching for it elsewhere.”

At first Ten Cents was reluctant to find his doll look alike but decided to go look for it.

“Alright let's split up. Sunshine you’ll go in the locker room, Tillie you’ll look in the cafeteria and I'll go look in the worker’s lounge. Now let's hop to it”

“Got it!” the two said in unison before they all went down stairs splitting off to go look for the doll.

Ten Cents looked over and under the furniture in the lounge until he came to a table when he noticed it hiding in the shadows.

“There you are.’’ Ten Cents said as he moved the table aside to reach for the doll, then he noticed something. It looked like the outline of a small door on the ground. Curiously, Ten Cents examined it, he then felt a keyhole beneath the wallpaper.

He grabbed the doll and saw the key held to it. Could this key belong to this door? Should I open it? Ten Cents thought to himself.

“Oi! Sunshine! Tillie! I found it!” he called out and they immediately rushed over to the employee lounge

“You found it?” Tillie asked,

“Where was it?” Sunshine added,

“Hiding underneath the table, but you won’t believe what else i found”

“What? What is it?” both asked as they walked over.

“There’s a door hidden in the wallpaper. See?”

Tillie and Sunshine squatted down to get a better look at the door.

“Why would a building have a door so small in it? It’s something straight out of Alice's Adventures In Wonderland” Tillie questioned.

“Don’t be silly Tillie, small doors like this usually are for a crawlspace.” Sunshine answered, “I should know, my orphanage had one.”

“I think the key belongs to this door” Ten Cents held out his doll, showing the key to Tillie and Sunshine.

“How do you know?” Sunshine skepticized

“I don’t, but it wouldn’t hurt to try I guess.”

Taking the key off the doll's neck and getting low to the door’s level, Ten Cents started ripping the wallpaper through the door’s jamb with the key’s blade. This made Tillie visibly anxious.

“Ten Cents, is it a good idea to rip the wallpaper? I really don’t want any of us to get into more trouble for vandalizing the wallpaper.” Tillie said, concerned.

“Don’t worry I don’t think anyone will notice… I hope.”

To Ten Cents’ surprise the key fitted the keyhole. Tillie and Sunshine grew anxious wanting to know what was on the other side of the small door. The key clicked, and with his heart beating out of his chest, Ten Cents turned the doorknob and pulled open the door revealing… a brick wall.

“…What?” stammered Sunshine,

“That’s it?!” Tillie exclaimed, they were all at a loss for words

“Why is the door sealed off? Even more so what's the point in keeping the door in place?” Ten Cents groaned, shutting the door and pulling the key out of the keyhole.

“Let’s put the table back in its original place before someone sees what we did, what a waste of time.”

Tillie and Sunshine nodded as they helped get the table in place and Ten Cents did his best to cover up where he ripped into the wallpaper.

“Well I think it’s time for me to go, I can’t keep my sister waiting for me any longer. She’d be worried sick if I didn't get back home on time.” Tillie said as she checked her watch.

“Alright guess we’ll see you tomorrow morning huh?” Ten Cents inquired

“Yeah… scraping barnacles, but it’ll be okay hopefully. See you guys then”

“See ya Tillie.”

“Tell your sister hi for me!” added Sunshine

Tillie nodded and waved goodbye as she exited the building.

“So what now?” asked Sunshine

“I don’t know but I find it mysterious how this doll left the barrack and appeared next to that small door. Heck it doesn’t even make sense for why it had a key for a door that went nowhere” Ten cents held out the doll and scowled at it.

“You think someone’s trying to mess with us?”

“I don’t know Sunshine, honestly I don’t want to think about this any longer.”

“Well I'm feeling pretty hungry now, shall we get something to eat?”

“Sure... another day of eating disgusting rations, yum” Ten Cents said with forced sarcasm as they walked to the cafeteria.

Night fell over Bigg City Port, some of my employees were still working while my young recruits, already in their pajamas, were getting ready to sleep.

Sunshine looked at his hand again, the rope burn still imprinted on his palm, while the stinging feeling had gone, yet Sunshine’s guilt still weighed heavy on his conscience. Ten Cents seemed to notice this and tried comforting his best friend.

“Hey I know you still feel bad about today, but just know that once we finish with our community service, Things will only get better here on out. Sure it may be still rather hectic with jobs to do but everything’s gonna be okay. O.J will recover and this whole incident will be forgotten about in due time, there's no need to beat yourself up over it,” Ten Cents said, laying his hand on Sunshine’s shoulder.

“Well I guess you’re right, Ten Cents, I just hope tomorrow goes well.”

“It will, Sunshine, It will…”

Ten Cents assured Sunshine again, both climbing into their bunks, both of their dolls were had been placed on their nightstand again.

“Goodnight Ten Cents.” yawned Sunshine,

“Goodnight Sunshine.” Ten Cents replied, and they both slowly drifted off to sleep. Unbeknownst to them, the small door Ten Cents unlocked was far more than what they initially thought.

{End of chapter 3}

<- Previous chapter —•— Next chapter ->

#this is tugs #bigg city port #The Other Port AU #my au #tugs humanized #tugs ten cents #tugs sunshine #tillietugswitcher #tugs oj #captain starr #don’t worry guys OJ is okay he’s just gonna be in the hospital for the rest of the story

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rxbxlcaptain · 11 months

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My Papa, My Stardust Chapter 5

Previous Chapter // AO3

Eadu, 3 BBY

Despite wearing an Imperial uniform around the complex, the other officers never fell for the bait; between the pieces of skuttlebutt floating across the facility and her clear lack of knowledge about the Imperial handbook (how was Jyn to know if her uniform was proper regulation, or the daily routine of Stormtroopers? Saw focused on sabotage, not intelligence) made it obvious she hadn’t attended officer training school.

Rumors about her ran rampant through base, especially in her early days. Scientists and maintenance works alike would turn as she walked down a hallway, following her with their eyes and with their heads.

She’s a feral child from the Outer Rim, some said, taken in by some Imperial project attempting to give promising orphans a place in the Empire.

She’s part cyborg, others would interject, a prototype of what they’re building in the lab.

Any who’d watched the holonet (which, Jyn learned, was few and far between) to witness Krennic’s horribly botched execution would surmise she was a political prisoner, saved by Dr. Erso, a man who clearly had an investment in the girl.

Whoever she was, few dared approach her. The brave number who had — some fishing for information, some longing to know her more intimately, some who seemed genuinely friendly (though Jyn never trusted an Imperial who appeared genuinely friendly) — quickly regretted their decision when they were met with little more than dark stares and grunts of conversation.

Her father dictated a schedule so lenient it was laughable. He requested her presence in the lab several hours a day, but never raised a finger to stop her from leaving after wandering through for only a few minutes. Even when she’d stayed in her room for days, her father never tried to motivate her to move, but left food outside her door twice a day. Judd snorted everytime she wandered in, muttering about nepotism and frigidness, and the irony of his statements never seemed lost on him. Oltach, who knew her mother, and Jerred, who always had a friendly smile, never approached her with more than offering a smile and a wave which Jyn barely ever returned. It was Tino Vic, either of his own accord or her father’s request, who attempted to pull her in on a regular basis, insisting she see the newest operating system for their datapads and leaving coding challenges on her desk, often attached with small notes detailing the time he expected it would take her.

(Those were Jyn’s favorite; few pleasures awaited her around Eadu Flight Station, but if she could beat back an Imperial’s underestimation of her skills, she couldn’t help the smile that would crack across her face.)

As her days turned into months and her imprisonment neared a full standard year, Jyn accepted this was the life she lived now. She stopped resisting her father sitting beside her during meals in the mess hall and joined him in the lab daily. There were few other options remaining, since what she longed to do (smash these Stormtroopers stupidly shiny helmets in) would only get her killed or tried for treason, she may as well enjoy the mental challenges offered to her around the lab.

And if she needed to ignore the way her father’s eyes lit up each day she spent beside him, then she would. Nothing she did here was to make him happy, not when he was building such an atrocity for the Empire.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The director is visiting today,” Galen announced to the lab.

The men looked up at their leader, a different emotion displayed on each face: panic on Iblik’s, resignation on Aske’s, a cocky grin across Judd’s, disinterest on Anholt’s, and a quick glance between Galen and Jyn from Vic. Only Jyn and Galen kept their faces neutral in response to the news.

“Any estimate on the time he’ll be landing, Father?”

He shook his head. “Krennic rarely gives much warning before he arrives, however, so I’d imagine within the next few hours.”

Jyn nodded, relaxing her shoulders as she refocused on the datapad in front of her. It wouldn’t do to let the others know the messy knots forming in her gut right now at the thought of seeing Krennic again for the first time since Saw’s attempted execution. Krennic never showed his face during her imprisonment following Saw’s escape, but every blow she received brought his face to her mind. She knew they were on his orders.

(Her rule still stood strong: no weaknesses in front of the other scientists, or any of the Imperials. She was resigned, but not weak.)

But the problem ran deeper than keeping a collected cover in front of the other Imperial scientists; part of Jyn hated how fear gripped her insides every time she heard the director’s name, how the blaster bolt that killed her mother still shoots across her mind when she hears it. She was made of tougher stuff than his. How many years had Saw spent laying the foundations of her strength, only so she could build on it herself for years to come, even after he’d left her?

Besides her fear, another problem waited: she hadn’t assimilated into the project as Krennic wanted. She never completed the work her father gave her out of protest and the knowledge that no soul on Eadu would be brave enough to cross her and risk the wrath of her father. But Krennic? The thought of the dark room she’d been kept in on Coruscant flashed through her mind. He could throw her back into her worst nightmare all over again with only a sinister cackle and flick of his wrist. He could take her away from her father, the last force keeping her safe anywhere in this galaxy, move her to any re-education or labor camp.

Jyn was focused so hard on keeping her breathing even that she missed her father approaching.

“Do you have any questions about the director’s visit, Jyn?” He asked, quietly so that the other engineers couldn’t hear. (Judd’s hands seemed suspiciously still on his datapad, but Jyn knew he was too far away to hear her father’s hushed tones.)

“Did he say what he wanted?”

“He wants to speak to you.”

Jyn’s fingers froze over the datapad she held. “Did he say why?”

“No, but I suspect you should be prepared.”

“Prepared for what?” Jyn gave an innocent smile. “I’ve done nothing to sabotage the Empire in months. The Director couldn’t possibly have any problems with me.”

To Jyn’s surprise, her father actually laughed out loud at her words, a quiet chuckling Jyn hadn’t heard for years. Based on the incredulous stares of the other engineers, they hadn’t heard such a sound from her father either.

Galen clapped her on the shoulder ( Jump away! one part of her brain screamed, but Jyn made no move) as he walked past. “Just be ready, Jyn.”

“Yes, Father.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jyn hadn’t formed any expectations about Krennic’s visit (the panicked thoughts of What if, What if, What if echoed throughout her mind if she did), but if she’d given the matter any thought, Krennic forcing his engineers to line up on Eadu’s landing platform despite the pouring rain to greet his ship would fit perfectly.

“What a kriffing power play,” Judd muttered as Galen marched to the front of the line to greet the director. “Insist we meet him outside in the rain, when we could have stayed dry in the lab.”

Jyn idly wondered if Mustafar was freezing over. She never expected to agree with that man.

Flanked by two Deathtroopers, Krennic marched down the plank of his ship and her father joined him, step for step, as he marched towards the line of scientists. He stopped in front of Jyn, raking his eyes over her uniform from the toes of her boots to the angle at which her cap rested.

“Lieutenant,” he greeted with a sickly sweet smile. The title felt out of place and unfamiliar; no one around the base — not her father, not the other engineers — called her by her assigned rank. “What a pleasure to see you adapting to your new environment so well.”

Jyn raised an arm in salute, which he returned in a dismissive manner. “Director Krennic.”

He laughed, turning to her father. “Now, now, Galen, look at this proficient little officer you’ve managed to produce!” Galen gave a terse nod to the director, though his eyes seemed to smile at Jyn. “I’ll admit,” Krennic continued, chuckling under his breath, “I expected to have you back on trial for sedition by this point, Lieutenant, but your father has managed to surprise me yet again.”

“I aim to please, sir.” Jyn’s voice remained neutral.

“Excellent,” he replied and Jyn wanted to punch the smug smile off of his face. “Let’s continue inside, shall we? Walk with me, Lieutenant.”

Jyn fell into step beside Krennic, her father following close behind. His gaze fell heavy on her neck and she longed to turn around, seeking a nod of reassurance or encouragement, but she wasn’t a child and she wasn’t seeking her father’s approval. She kept her eyes forward.

“I’ve seen the work you’ve been doing, Lieutenant,” Krennic addressed her with pride. Jyn held back a shocked expression from her face. Proud? Why would Orson Krennic be proud of the work she was doing? She’d done exactly nothing for this project other than recheck the easiest calculations the scientists had already completed. If anything, she expected this visit to be a reprimand for her, full of harsh threats and unsavory possibilities if she didn’t straighten herself out and prove her loyalty to the Empire.

(Images from her nightmares sprang forward: her holding an Imperial blaster to Saw’s head, Krennic over her shoulder. If she didn’t behave herself; if Saw was recaptured…)

She refocused her thoughts on Krennic’s words and the echoing boot steps down the sterile corridors.

Krennic was continuing. “I was a little skeptical at your father’s promise that he could steer you onto the right track, after all those unfortunate years under Gerrera’s care. I was certain you would shove him off track — and he has been producing less than before, but nothing too drastic so I won’t hold it against you — and,” he leaned in close to Jyn with a smile. Jyn forced herself to stay rooted in place. “Let us be honest with each other. We both know that Galen can be less than persuasive. You wouldn’t remember this — you were too young when she died — but your mother was always able to push him around, bend him to her bidding. That’s why they moved you to that backwater planet. Simply your mother’s wishes.”

I will not attack Orson Krennic. Attacking Orson Krennic will only get me killed. I will not attack Orson Krennic. Attacking Orson Krennic will only get me killed.

“Luckily I was able to clear that up and set Galen back on his path of brilliance, where he should have been for years.” He gave her a testing stare. “Incredibly lucky, don’t you think?”

I will not attack Orson Krennic. Attacking Orson Krennic will only get me killed.

Jyn unclenched her jaw before answering. “Absolutely, Director. His research is sure to change the course of history.”

Krennic paused outside the entrance to the laboratory. “That’s a good girl. Off you go, then. Go complete your newest round of Systems Safety Reports. I have more to discuss with your father.”

Jyn’s hand froze as she reached for the pad to open the door. Systems safety reports? She hadn’t been working on those; her father had. Those nights she had caught him up late in the lab, pouring over a data pad.

He hadn’t been catching up on his own work, as he assured her. He’d been covering for her. Keeping her safe from Krennic’s wrath.

“Was there something else you wanted, Lieutenant?” Krennic asked, an eyebrow raised. “I thought I dismissed you.”

“Yes, sir.” Jyn scrambled to find an appropriate excuse but her brain felt overloaded with this new revelation. Her father, working twice as hard to protect her. ( He’s trying to protect you , the trusting little voice inside her head — the same one that had been bothering her since she’d landed on Eadu all those months ago — cooed with pride. I told you so, I told you so! )

“I won’t waste your time, Director,” Jyn finally settled on. “It’s not a large issue.”

“Very well then,” Krennic inclined his head towards the door. “Off you go then.”

Jyn left, her mind still whirling with the new information.

My father is trying to protect me. My father is lying for me. My father is deceiving Orson Krennic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She returned to the lab the next day with a vigor she’d never experienced on Eadu. She’d made a decision overnight: she would uphold her vow to never assist the Empire, but her father’s work needed a more personal investigation.

If he’d been lying about completing her work, what else was he being deceitful about?

As she entered the lab, Galen greeted her with his traditional smile and a quick “Good morning, Jyn” before returning to his work as usual. Either he hadn’t realized she’d put together what the director’s comments meant, or he was hoping she would forget it.

Jyn didn’t picture it was the former and wanted to address the latter. Surely the best way to check was the easiest way: pulling up the Systems Safety and Compatibility Reports, Jyn began the work her father claimed she’d been doing for months.

She’d never opened the program but all Imperials systems were designed with ease of use in mind; surely she could figure it out soon. When the datapad containing the program sprang to life, three options popped up: the reactor system, the weapons system and the ventilation system.

Curious, Jyn poked at the weapons system. Perhaps the key to the super weapon — and, therefore, the key to destroy it — lay hidden beneath these plans. Much to Jyn’s dismay, the program only ran over the existing blueprints, exposing none of the finer details of the plan to her. Green lines appeared periodically, proving the system would be operational. Rather than finding the key to the weapons' destruction, Jyn only found proof of its fearsome power.

Scowling, Jyn punched the option for the reactor system, waiting for the green lines to prove her father’s genius.

But no green lines appeared.

The datapad beeped as one red line appeared on the plans, and again as a second appeared. The other engineers began glancing over at the third and the fourth high pitched beep. By the fifth, Jyn had turned off its sound system and just in time, for the lines began appearing faster and faster, until the plans were covered in more red than anything else. The scan refused to complete the entire system, stopping at two hundred errors.

Jyn clicked on the first red line to appear.

“ERROR” Blinked across the screen. “DANGEROUS LEVELS OF RADIATION.”

She checked the second, and then the third. Similar messages were attached to each line.

What was this? Was her father still completing this system, and this was only a prototype? Or had she simply discovered another one of her father’s lies?

My father is deceiving Orson Krennic about my work, she reminded herself. My father has been lying. What else has he been lying about?

Puzzled, Jyn stared across the round table to where her father worked, sketching blueprints on his own datapad, oblivious to the whirlwind of thoughts flooding Jyn’s mind. He didn’t notice her stare at first, engrossed in his own work, but glanced up after a moment.

“Something you wanted, Jyn?” He asked, a curious smile on his face. “If you’d like assistance with something…”

“No,” Jyn snapped, and the excitement faded from his face. “I don’t need assistance.”

I want answers, but not here. Not now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Father,” Jyn greeted the next morning, not at the doors to the lab where they traditionally met, but outside his quarters, a place she never visited unless wholly necessary.

“Jyn!” He stepped back, clearly startled at her presence. “What can I do for you?”

“I need you to explain something to me.”

“Of course, Jyn.” He always seemed eager when she asked for anything from him, no matter if it was only to pass her a stylus or a datapad within the lab. “How can I help?”

She answered by shoving the datapad and SSCR’s two hundred red lines under his nose. He tensed immediately.

“How did you get this?” Galen snarled when she showed him her numbers, the harshest voice Jyn has ever heard from him. (He’s been nothing but gentle and reassuring since Jyn was brought to the facility; trying to earn back her trust and favor, she imagined.) But now his grip was tight on her arm, pulling her down the hallway and out into the pelting Eadu rains, his voice sharp on every edge.

“Jyn,” he demands again after sweeping his eyes over the building’s exterior — sweeping for holocams, as Saw had taught her to do. (Maybe her fathers weren’t so different after all.) “Tell me how you learned this.”

“Systems report,” she said,yanking her arm out of his grip. Her father let her go, his face slipping into shock at the phrase. Rain ran into his eyes and matted his hair to his forehead, but he made no move to prevent it. “You remember those? The ones the director thought I had been doing for months?”

He swallowed. “There was no need for you to do those, Jyn. I’ve been running them for you while you integrate in.”

She snorted. “You were covering for me.”

He didn’t deny it, only stared at her, a muscle twitching along his tense jawline.

“I don’t need your protection,” she continued. “And I don’t want it, so I did the reports myself. And I found,” she pointed at the datapad — it would be ruined after this rain, but Jyn could run the reports again, forcing her father to admit whatever he was hiding — again, “this.”

“The system isn’t complete,” her father said, a beat too late. “That’s an early prototype. We have much work to do on it.”

She’d never taken the time to notice whens he was a child, but everyone had always told her: Galen Erso was a terrible liar. She saw it here, in the way his eyes flickered anxiously over her face and he swallowed unnecessarily.

“If the system isn’t complete, why did you drag me out here? That answer can be on camera.” Whatever was the truth behind what she discovered couldn’t be.

“Jyn.” He said her name slowly, as a warning. “You need to stop digging, and leave this to me.”

“Leave what to you? Your weapon to destroy worlds?”

“Yes.” He leaned forward, tightened his eyes. The expression might have been intimidating, if Jyn hadn’t noticed him forcing it onto his face. “Leave the project alone, Jyn.”

The worst thing she possibly could have said, the worst insult she possibly had to give her father spilled out of her mouth. She’d held it in for so long, only intended to use it in her very early days on Eadu, when she was still aching from the days of Imperial torture, but something about the crushing cold of the Eadu rain and the hurt from her father’s lies stabbed right into her heart and she wanted to hurt him right back.

“Mama would hate you. She would hate everything you’re doing.”

To Jyn’s shock and slight disappointment, he didn’t seem hurt at her statement, only resigned. He leaned out of Jyn’s air space and hung his head, wiping his hand over his hair and sighing. He broke the thick silence after a moment. “She would, wouldn’t she?”

Then, he laughed, and though Jyn believed her father had no way left to hurt her, he found the one power she didn’t know he had. “But, then again, you hate me, and you and your mother always agreed. You would know best what your mother would feel, Jyn.”

“I don’t hate you.” The words rushed out of her before she had time to think them over. They were raw, but true.

He stared at her with tired, tired eyes. With his wet hair and clothes, her father looked like a mere skeleton compared to the person she knew and loved as a child. Like he died on that field along with Mama, and a different being entirely had taken his place.

“Don’t you, Jyn? I wouldn’t blame you if you do.”

She swallowed, seeing a path to the truth through his words. “I don’t hate you, Papa. I just wish you’d tell me the truth.”

“I can’t do that, Jyn.”

“Why not?” She demanded, knowing she sounded like a petulant child and hardly caring. “Why can’t you explain this to me?”

“It’s an early prototype —”

“Bantashit! Tell me what it is!”

“Jyn,” he warned, “the kind of trouble you’d be in, the danger I’d be putting you in…”

“If you’re doing something illegal — and you are, you can’t deny it after this,” she spit the words out through her teeth, “the Imperials will assume I know what you’re doing. If you get caught, I get hurt. There’s no reason to keep me in the dark.”

At the shocked look on her father’s face, Jyn realized he had not only been lying to her; he had been lying to himself about the implication of whatever was wrong with the reaction core.

“There’s a flaw, deep within the system.” Galen’s eyes remained glued to the food they’d come out of, his voice barely audible over the pounding rain. Jyn hardly believed she was hearing her father explain this. He looked like he couldn’t believe it either. “I’ve built a flaw into the design. If you put too much pressure onto the reactor module, the entire system will implode and destroy the entire battle station.”

Jyn stared for a moment. He was designing the weapon … to destroy it?

“You have to understand, Jyn,” his words became rushed, spilling out all at once. “I didn’t have an option to work on the project, not once Krennic found us on Lah’mu. My options were to work on the project or to take my own life.” He laughed, but the sound wasn’t humorous, only bitter. “Suicide sounded tempting somedays, with your mother dead and you who knows where in the galaxy. But the super weapon…”

Galen shook his head. “Krennic was so convinced I needed to head the project in order for it to be a success, but that wasn’t true. He’d assembled a stellar team of engineers. They’d figure it out eventually, with or without my assistance, so I made a decision.” He rolled his shoulders back, stood a little taller, now that he spoke of decisions he was proud of. “I became essential to the project. I would build the Empire a weapon so powerful they could rule every corner of the galaxy. But all the while I laid the groundwork for my revenge.”

He reached for the datapad in Jyn’s hand. She was too shocked, too numb at what she was hearing ( her father isn’t a traitor, her father doesn’t work for the Empire ) to stop him.

“This, Jyn,” he said, holding up the datapad. “This is what I’ve created. I’ve kept it concealed from them. The system has been hidden from checks, its flaws have been excused in some form or another, but it’s been there, directly under their noses the whole time. And when it’s ready, I’ll get the information to Saw, to the Rebellion.”

It sounded so simple when he said it like that. But nothing in this war against the Empire ever was. Jyn knew that all too well.

“They’ll find out what you’re doing,” Jyn whispered. “This plan is suicide. It’ll never work.”

“That’s why,” he said, folding up the datapad, “you know nothing about it, Jyn. You found nothing on the systems report and you’ll continue your duties as normal. Understood?”

“No.” Jyn stepped forward, reaching for the datapad again. “I’ve been fighting the Empire since I was a child. I’m not going to stop now.”

Galen swallowed. “I can’t let you risk your life with me, Jyn.”

“Papa, you already are.”

He came to a decision, steeling his eyes. “You know now, Jyn, and there’s nothing I can do about that. But I can separate you from the project.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, shooting him a quizzical stare. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll send you away from the project, find another path for you besides working in the lab.” The lines on his forehead deepened as he thought. “Perhaps the cargo shipments. You can monitor the flights to and from Jedha.”

“You’re sending me away?” Despite her hatred of Eadu, the sting of her fathers’ abandonment rushed through her. She couldn’t stand losing him again, not when she’d only just found him now.

“Let me work out the details today, Jyn, but you’ll return. You won’t be sent away.” He reached to brush a thumb over her cheek, lightly, tentatively. “I just need to keep you safe.”

Jyn nodded. Traveling, like she did with Saw. She could do that.

“The less you know, Stardust, the safer you’re going to be. You cannot continue to work within the lab.” Galen’s lips curved slightly and a teasing glint entered his eye. It was the most honest smile Jyn had seen from him all day. “But I believe that won’t be a crushing blow to you.”

Jyn tried to smile back at her father — she really did — but it fell short of its mark. “Lab work isn’t what I’m built for.”

“No,” Galen agreed, reaching a hand up to stroke the wet hair away from her face. His eyes were wistful as he continued. “You were always much more like your mother in that way. The world was yours to explore, but also yours to protect. She’d be so very proud of you, Jyn.”

Jyn swallowed past the lump in her throat. All these years she had spent focused on not being who her father had become (but if what she’d found — if what he’s admitted to her — was true, would that be such a bad thing?) she had forgotten how much she longed to be like her mother, the fearless Lyra Erso who hopped across systems in the middle of the night and took a blaster to the chest, just to keep her family safe.

“Are you?” Jyn asked, not really sure where the question was leading or where I sudden desire to please her father had come from. “Are you proud of me, Papa?”

“Stardust,” he breathed, and Jyn was shocked to see the nickname didn’t sting like betrayal. “Of course you do. You’d make me proud if you were still fighting alongside Saw, or if you were an officer in the Rebel Alliance. But,” he grabbed her face to emphasize his point. “You’d make me no less proud if you left this all behind — ran to a distant planet to live a normal life. If that’s what made you happy, Jyn, then I would find a way to get you off this planet. And I would always, always be proud of you.”

Jyn surged forward then, wrapping her arms around her father’s neck for the first time since she was eight years old. After a moment, she expected the awkwardness to set in, for her to remember how she’d outgrown the need for physical touch before she was ten years old, but her father’s hands wrapped around her back and he pulled her in tight. This perfect fit, the warm feeling of love and acceptance, even in the bone chilling cold of Eadu’s rain — Jyn never wanted to leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bodhi Rook never liked rain. He could blame his home planet, he supposed; the rainy season on Jedha only spelled disease and a plague of random bugs crawling on every surface, longing to be dry just as much as the people.

But the rain on Eadu didn’t feel like the rain on Jedha. In fact, nothing on Eadu reminded Bodhi of the desert world from which he came. The torrential downpour, the lack of sun, the clinical feel of the labs: everywhere he turned, he missed the welcoming presence of his home planet. Imperial occupation may have made the world less welcoming, made it felt less like the world where he was born, but the wandering the streets, you could still see pilgrims from all corners of the galaxy, inhale the deep smells of street food around each turn, find merchants offering colorful silk scarves and souvenirs to remind tourists of their journey.

Bodhi lost pieces of his identity slowly over the years. First, trading his home world for the Terrabe Sector Service Academy. His flight suit came next to replace the more traditional Jedhan clothes. Now, with his mother falling ill and treatments failing, it seemed Bodhi might lose his last tie to Jedha, cut loose from his tether and free to wander the galaxy.

(That’s never what he wanted. Leaving Jedha behind wasn’t his plan.)

At least when he was on his ship, flying for hours upon hours between the hidden Imperial facility and his cargo’s destination, staring out into the edge where realspace faded into hyperspace, Bodhi felt some measure of comfort. He had always longed to fly. Even as a boy, before he realized what the gleaming ships landing on his planet meant, he rushed to his home’s windows to catch sight of them, pulling his mother with him. She’d known what they were, that they brought the white monster wandering the streets, the ones who scared Bodhi so badly he would hide behind his mother’s skirts as they walked the market.

Now, Bodhi thought with a snort, he was one of the monsters. Not in white, perhaps, but still the ones passing through the skies, ferrying in fear alongside his cargo.

He sat in his cockpit now, not staring at the flashing lights of hyperspace, but the pelting rains of Eadu. Troopers had collected his manifest, accounted for the boxes with the mysterious cargo and were now waiting for the engineers of the facility to brave the rain to direct them. Bodhi’s job was complete, but, like a good pilot, he stayed with his ship, ignoring the pounding boots of troopers wandering on and off. (He’s not a child anymore, but they still look like monsters. Only now he lost the option to hide behind his mother.)

Perhaps it’s his tendency to keep his head down while he’s on base — the rain, the incorrect shipping manifests given to him, the Stormtroopers around every turn: everything about this base makes the hairs on his arms stand on edge — or the light footsteps that fall almost silent compared to the ‘troopers, but Bodhi misses an officer wandering on board his ship.

He just about jumped out of his skin when, in the corner of his vision, a human girl — a woman, he corrected, though she must be younger than him — hefted herself up onto one of the shipping containers. She wore the dark uniform of an Imperial officer, but didn’t act like any officers Bodhi had ever met. Was this some kind of test?

This was not in my flight manual.

“Ma’am?” Bodhi asked, snapping to attention. Her eyes follow him, and they’re full of laughter at his frantic move to be respectful. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“I figured I should inspect the ship,” she responded. Bodhi risked eyeing her insignia for a moment. Twin gold bars sat on her shoulders: a second lieutenant, then. That explained her young age, at least. A young academy grad, enjoying her first assignment reminding the junior officers of her place above them.

“Yes, ma’am. A sergeant collected my manifest earlier, but I—I should have another one… right… here…” Bodhi scrambled for the datapad assigned for this trip. “If you need to look at it.”

“Relax, ensign. Nothing’s wrong. You can calm that racing heart of yours.”

Bodhi settled for trapping his fidgeting hands behind his back. There was little he could do for the racing heart.

“Have you received your newest orders yet?”

“No, ma’am.” He hadn’t left his datapad alone for long; surely Bodhi hadn’t missed an important message. Had he done something to upset his superiors? Would he no longer be allowed to fly home on his cargo missions? “I only landed half an hour ago.”

“You’ve been busy, yes. Not a concern, Ensign Rook. I can tell you myself then.” She extended her hand. “I’m Jyn Erso, and I’ll be accompanying you on your supply runs from now on.”

Bodhi froze. The Empire was sending an officer along with him? Did they not trust him, or were the supplies he was carrying that valuable? “H-have I done something wrong?”

“It has much less to do with you and more to do with your flight path,” she explained, quirking her eyebrows slightly at the end. “And me, I suppose. I have business on Jedha, and I, unfortunately, am not qualified to fly myself across the galaxy. A full set of orders should be coming to your account soon. Any questions?”

The whole situation seemed unusual, but Bodhi learned years ago to stop questioning Imperial motivations. Still, one detail caught his attention.

“Erso?” That name topped each of his flight manifests. These goods he was delivering — they were for the use of a Dr. Erso. Surely she couldn’t be…?

“My father,” the Lieutenant supplied, as if reading Bodhi’s mind. “Dr. Erso is my father, so, naturally, I was assigned to the same base.” She tipped her cap, a slight roll in her eyes. “Imperial nepotism at its finest.”

Bodhi stared at her, unmoving.

She sighed. “You’re allowed to laugh, Ensign. Not every Imperial needs to be as stone cold as the troopers. The rest of us are allowed to laugh occasionally.”

Bodhi’s lips twitched into something he hoped looked like a smile. Based on the Lieutenant’s sigh, he guessed he hadn’t succeeded.

“Close enough, for now. Mind if I explore the ship?”

Bodhi nodded and she smiled in return, flinging her cap onto the same cargo box she’d sat on earlier before climbing to the cockpit. Bodhi followed close on her heels, but left her her space once she reached the top of the ladder. She examined the console closely, especially for someone with no piloting experience.

“Can I help you find anything, Lieutenant?”

She snorted. “One request for our partnership, Rook. Don’t refer to me as ‘Lieutenant.’ Or — what was it you used earlier? Ma’am? Don’t do that either.”

What kind of Imperial officer was this woman?

“What-what should I call you then?”

“Jyn,” she said, straightening up. “Call me Jyn.”

“That’s not…”

“Regulations. Yeah,” she shrugged. “I’m not one for regulations. You don’t mind if I call you Bodhi, do you?”

“This… this isn’t going to get me in trouble, is it? Or is this some kind of test?” Rumors circulated around Bodhi’s training center about officers who would try to lure the cadets into compromising situations. An officer insisting he call her by her first name, refusing to use any title and being so lax about protocol? Maybe he should double check his datapad to see if she was lying about those orders…

“I don’t seem much like the Imperial type, do I?” The lieutenant — Jyn? — snorted. “This… wasn’t my first career choice.” She looked Bodhi up and down. “I imagine it wasn’t yours, either, Ensign.”

“I-it’s my privilege to serve the Empire.”

Her gaze sharpened at the comment. The words hung heavy in the air long enough Bodhi’s anxious thoughts started racing again. Finally, she replied, “You’re not a propaganda poster and you’re not one of the Stormtroopers. You can have independent thought.”

Can I? Bodhi wondered. No one at the Academy thought so.

Bodhi didn’t dare voice the words out loud.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Galen stood just inside the doors to the facility. He couldn’t see the cargo ship his daughter left the planet on -- he couldn’t see much past his own reflection in the window -- but he imagined it nonetheless. The cargo pilot Jyn had selected to accompany had an excellent track record, Galen reassured himself.

His daughter would be returning. No need to replay through previous scenarios where he and Jyn had been separated.

Nothing about Jyn’s new directives were secret, either. With the completion of the Death Star looming nearer and nearer, Krennic had no qualms sending Jyn in a different, and less top-secret, direction. The director had only required one conversation with Galen before signing the change in orders.

“She’s adjusting to life on base well,” Galen had explained on one of Krennic’s drop in visits. Less than a week had passed since Jyn had discovered his sabotage and Galen saw no reason to wait longer to remove his daughter from the Imperial crosshairs he had put himself into. “Only she’s…”

Krennic pulled up short, the ever present squad of death troopers stopping in time. “Any attempts at sabotage?”

“No, no,” Galen reassured him. “It’s only… well, we were separated at such an important age in her schooling… She’s lacking much of the knowledge I need.”

A snort escaped from Krennic. “Erso brains aren’t entirely genetic, then? Such a shame you didn’t leave her on Coruscant, Galen. The paths she could have traveled if those options were left open to her.”

The necessary lies grated at Galen. Slandering his daughter’s intelligence, even with her knowledge of this plan, felt wrong. If only the universe dealt their cards differently, he and Jyn could have worked side by side or much in the way he and Lyra once did -- Coruscant education or not.

In an amazing feat of restraint, Galen kept his comments to himself. “I just feel Jyn would be more useful elsewhere. Keeping her cooped up in the lab isn’t benefiting her or the project.”

“And you have a solution to his problem?” Krennic asked with raised eyebrows.

“The cargo shipments,” Galen answered. “She knows what I’m looking for on Jedha and has the authority to oversee a few pilots. She can remain stationed here under my watch, but spend her time assisting the shipments.”

The director considered his proposal, eyebrows raised in praise or condemnation Galen couldn’t tell. The seconds ticked by, but Galen kept his eyes steady on Krennic’s.

“Let me help her, Orson. I’ve failed her much of her life already.”

Krennic sighed. “Alright, but I’ll expect regular reports from her not only about the shipments but the traffic on Jedha -- rebel activity, the movements of the Guardians, any merchant that offers her spice. One step out of line, and she returns to the cell I designed for her on Coruscant. Do you understand?”

Jyn understood the director’s warning, even if she had rolled her eyes when Galen had described the conditions. She was ready to keep her head low until the moment Galen needed her to exploit this new found freedom by sharing his design flaw with the Rebellion. She would make biweekly runs, returning to his watchful eye between each visit. She would be safe, toeing the line between enough freedom to run and enough protection to keep away from the suspicious eye of the Empire.

If only the anxiety in his heart would agree with the logic in his brain.

#kat writes #therebelcaptainnetwork #cassian andor #rebelcaptain #jyn erso #bodhi rook #rogue one #i just quit my last job and don't start the new one for a week #so you'll likely be getting another update or two within that time #thank you all for the loving response I've gotten to posting this!#glad to see some of yall are still hanging around

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