Alexander Freed

Would anyone have told her if Baze and Chirrut were gone?

Cassian held his ground, staring down at her until his lips finally twitched into something like a smile. His eyes remained hard and troubled. Jyn wasn’t sure if he’d gotten worse at hiding things or if she was simply getting to know him too well.

“You’ll need this,” she said. “You wanted one, right?”

Maybe, Jyn thought, she’d been better off without it. If you were alive, Papa, I’d have a lot to blame you for.

With one second left until total shutdown, K-2SO chose to mentally simulate an impossible scenario in which Cassian Andor escaped alive.

The simulation pleased
him.

She didn’t have the strength to spare for him; just the drive to haul herself up one row of cartridges at a time, drag herself away from the darkness and toward the hope of light.

And if the mission failed? If there was redemption to be found through killing, he had surely already found it. But he would fight on nonetheless.

“Chirrut!” Baze called. “Come back!”

He touched a broad, hinged handle recessed in the console: a master switch,

He smiled softly and thought of Bodhi, the strange pilot who smelled of Jedha beneath his Imperial suit.