Rogue One Junior Novel

by Lucasfilm Press

  That got the monk’s attention. “It bothers him because he knows it is possible.”

  The soldier laughed out loud at that.

  Chirrut nodded toward his friend, but he spoke to Cassian. “Baze Malbus was once the most devoted Guardian of us all.”

  That surprised Cassian. The soldier had once been a monk like Chirrut? Had it been the Imperial occupation of Jedha that had so changed him? If so, how had Chirrut maintained his faith while Baze had so completely abandoned it?

  Cassian didn’t care to take sides in their ongoing argument. Still, he couldn’t help commenting. “I’m beginning to think the Force and I have different priorities.”

  “Relax, Captain,” Chirrut said. “We’ve been in worse cages than this one.”

  Cassian glanced around at the walls and the cell door. “Yeah? Well, this is a first for me.”

  “There is more than one sort of prison, Captain. I sense that you carry yours wherever you go.”

  Cassian looked away. The remark jabbed him harder than he cared to let on.

  SAW’S REBELS escorted Jyn into a long, cavernous room, still part of the ancient burial ground for the monks of Jedha. Light streamed in through a large window carved into the wall, and she could see the wide valley spreading beyond it, with Jedha City rising in the distance and basking in the sun.

  It took Jyn a moment to realize something was different about that picture. The Imperial Star Destroyer that had been looming over the city was gone.

  She didn’t know what that meant, and she didn’t have time to ponder it. She spied Saw Gerrera across the room, and thoughts of all else fled.

  “Is it really you?” Saw said. His voice was weaker, raspier than she remembered. “I can’t believe it.”

  He went toward her, walking with a new limp. His once bald head was covered in gray hair. He wore an oxygen mask around his neck.

  “Must be quite a surprise,” she said, unable to contain her frustration with him.

  The sharp tone of her voice stopped him short. He gave her a tentative look. “Are we not friends?”

  Jyn wasn’t sure what he could possibly mean by that. “The last time I saw you, you gave me a knife and loaded blaster and told me to wait in a shell turret until daylight.”

  “I knew you were safe.”

  That’s not the point, she thought. “You left me behind.”

  He frowned. “You were already the best soldier in my cadre.”

  Thin compliments were not going to get him off the hook. “I was sixteen!”

  “I was protecting you.”

  By leaving me behind? She thought she’d gotten over how much that had hurt her years before, but the sight of the man—the way he dismissed her concerns—brought it all flooding back. “You dumped me.”

  “You were the daughter of an Imperial science officer. People were starting to figure that out. People who wanted to use you as a hostage.”

  Jyn glared at him. She’d known all that, of course. She just hadn’t thought he’d ever give in to it.

  “Not a day goes by I don’t think of you.” He gave her a rueful look. “But today of all days…”

  Saw sized her up, and Jyn wondered if he would find her wanting.

  “It’s a trap, isn’t it?” he said.

  “What?” The question confused Jyn at first. Then she realized it wasn’t about her at all. It was about him. Him and his paranoia.

  “The pilot. The message. All of it.”

  Saw reached down for his oxygen mask and took a long pull on it. It saddened Jyn to see him in such a state. He’d always been so strong, almost like a force of nature.

  He narrowed his eyes, gazing at her like a cornered beast. “Did they send you…? Have you come here to kill me?” He allowed himself a half-hearted chuckle and gestured to himself. “There’s not much left.”

  Jyn gave him a pitiful shake of her head. “I don’t care enough to kill you, Saw.”

  As the words left her lips, she knew them to be true. She’d spent years proving herself independent enough not to need the man’s help. She hadn’t forgiven him, but she’d done her best to forget him. Until now.

  “So what is it, Jyn?” Saw asked, both suspicious and confused.

  Jyn didn’t see any reason to lie. Saw would see right through her if she tried.

  “The Alliance wants my father. They think he’s sent you a message about a weapon. I guess they think by sending me you might actually help them out.”

  Saw nodded, clearly weighing her words against a lifetime of paranoid habits that had kept him alive till then. She wondered if he would believe her, but she realized she didn’t care. She’d done what she could. The rest was up to him.

  “So what is it that you want, Jyn?”

  “To be left alone.” She permitted herself a bitter smile. That was true, although she wasn’t sure if it was possible. Maybe not anymore. But she had to try.

  “They wanted an introduction,” she said. “They’ve got it. I’m out now. The rest of you can do what you want.”

  “You care not about the cause?”

  The idea that he would bring up his glorious cause at a moment like that appalled Jyn. “The cause? Seriously?” She gawked at him. “The Alliance? The rebels? Whatever it is you’re calling yourself these days? All it’s ever brought me is pain.”

  That set Saw back on his heels. Jyn knew he thought he’d indoctrinated her as a good little rebel during their years together. The way he’d abandoned her, though, had crushed that part of her soul.

  “You can stand to see the Imperial flag reign across the galaxy?”

  “It’s not a problem if you don’t look up,” she told him.

  Saw stiffened at that. Her words had cut him deep. She might have felt bad about that if he hadn’t already hurt her far worse.

  He blinked at her for a moment, then nodded. “I have something to show you.”

  THE SHADOW of the Death Star fell over Jedha, and Krennic reveled in the sight. He’d worked so hard to get that far—to make the battle station operational—and his moment of triumph was finally within his grasp. The presence of Grand Moff Tarkin, though, prevented him from fully enjoying it.

  “The Emperor is awaiting my report on what transpires here,” Tarkin said, as if they didn’t both know that and what he really meant.

  Tarkin considered the Death Star to be his project, despite the fact that it would never have happened without Krennic. He was like the man who bought a landspeeder and paraded around in it as if he’d created it.

  If Krennic could have gotten away with it, he’d have tossed Tarkin out of one of the Death Star’s airlocks. Instead, he did as he always had and showed Tarkin a respect he didn’t feel. “One had hoped that he and Lord Vader might have been here for such an occasion.”

  Tarkin almost clucked his tongue at Krennic. “I thought it prudent to save you from any potential embarrassment.”

  Krennic knew that meant Tarkin wanted to oversee the Death Star’s initial operations by himself, to make sure it was in working order before he attempted to take over. Otherwise, he couldn’t be sure that he didn’t need Krennic any longer. But Krennic was far too wise to let the man get rid of him that easily.

  “Your concern is hardly warranted,” he told Tarkin.

  Tarkin smirked at him. “If saying it would only make it so.”

  Krennic wondered exactly how much the Emperor would miss his favorite grand moff should he suddenly disappear. He decided to ignore the dig and address the rest of the people in the room instead.

  “All Imperial forces have been evacuated, and I stand ready to destroy the entire moon.”

  Tarkin arched an eyebrow at Krennic. “That won’t be necessary. We need a statement, not a manifesto. The Holy City will be enough for today.”

  Krennic stifled a retort. He knew n
ow what the Grand Moff’s game was. He would take over the Death Star once Krennic had proved it would work. And then he would take credit for using it to annihilate an entire planet.

  Krennic promised himself he would find a way to leave Tarkin disappointed in that regard. For the moment, though, he still needed to play along with the Grand Moff’s power grab.

  He moved to the Death Star’s command console and issued his order. “Target Jedha City,” he said. “Prepare single reactor ignition.”

  That would be enough to wipe the ancient city from the face of the moon. If only the Emperor—or even his emissary, Lord Vader—had been there to bear witness to the destruction. As it was, news of Krennic’s triumph would only reach them through Tarkin, who would be sure to take as much of the credit as he could.

  Krennic strove not to let such personal setbacks color the moment. Either way, he had a job to do.

  “Fire when ready.”

  CASSIAN COULD sense they were running out of time. Jyn had been gone far too long. If she was going to convince Saw Gerrera to free them, shouldn’t someone have come down to release them by now?

  He kept watch on the guards, looking for any sign from them as to how things with Jyn and Saw were going. If all went poorly, he would have to lead a desperate attempt to escape. Otherwise, they would all be executed for sure.

  “Who’s the one in the next cell?” Chirrut asked out of nowhere.

  Cassian hadn’t given any thought to their neighbor. He’d been too preoccupied with the guards.

  “What?” Baze said. “Where?”

  Baze walked toward the bars separating them from a man huddled in the darkness. Baze peered at him and then curled up his lips as if tasting something foul. “An Imperial pilot.”

  That caught Cassian’s attention. After all, they’d gone to Jedha in search of an Imperial pilot. Had Saw really thrown the defector into a cell, too?

  “Pilot?”

  Baze moved closer to the adjoining cell. “I’ll kill him.”

  “No!” Cassian dashed over to pull Baze back. “Wait! No!”

  Baze wasn’t the sort to just let someone push him aside, but Cassian insisted. “Back off,” he told the man. “Back off!”

  He peered into the next cell and saw just what had gotten Baze’s temper to flare up: a skinny man with olive skin, dark hair, and a thin beard. He wore the uniform of an Imperial pilot.

  The man trembled as he noticed Cassian, perhaps because of Baze’s threats. Or maybe something else was wrong with him on top of that.

  “Okay,” Cassian said softly, trying to get the pilot to calm down. “Okay.”

  The man’s eyes rolled, and Cassian couldn’t tell if his mind was still in the room with them or not. Had Saw been torturing him?

  “Are you the pilot?” Cassian asked. “Hey, hey…Are you the pilot? The shuttle pilot?”

  The man fixed him with an empty gaze. “Pilot?” The word seemed to make some sense to him, almost like it was stirring a long-buried memory.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Chirrut asked.

  Cassian wished he knew. He’d seen people in a condition like this before, and he shuddered to think what the man had gone through to get to that point. He wasn’t about to explain to Chirrut what might have happened and how it could be treated though. He needed to make sure he had the right man first.

  “Galen Erso,” he said to the man in the cell. “You know the name?”

  The pilot sat up, but his eyes still seemed glassy. The way he moved, though—the way he blinked at Cassian now that he’d said Galen’s name—that had to mean something, right?

  “I brought the message,” the man said. “I’m the pilot.”

  Cassian wanted to cheer. The man sat up fully now and focused on Cassian and the others in the next cell. “I’m the pilot. I’m the pilot!”

  SAW LED Jyn to a projector and inserted a holographic chip into it. He glanced out the window as if he was waiting for something, but he didn’t let that stop him from working the projector.

  “This is the message from the pilot,” he said. He offered no preface. No explanation. He just let it play.

  A flickering bluish image of Jyn’s father burst to life atop the projector. She knew he must have recorded the message recently, but it seemed to her as if a ghost had leaped out of her past to talk with her. He looked older, more worn than she remembered, and she wondered exactly how life had treated him.

  She couldn’t tell if she felt like crying with rage or joy. But he couldn’t see her either way, so she settled in to watch and listen instead.

  “Saw, if you’re watching this, then perhaps there is a chance to save the Alliance. Perhaps there’s a chance to explain myself and, though I don’t dare hope for too much, a chance for Jyn, if she’s alive—if you can possibly find her—to let her know that my love for her has never faded, and how desperately I’ve missed her.”

  She felt her throat start to tighten. All those years she’d been apart from him—all those years she’d spent alone after Saw had abandoned her—threatened to well up and swallow her whole, but she shoved her emotions aside for the moment.

  This was her father, after all, and she didn’t want to miss a word of what he said.

  “Jyn, my Stardust…I can’t imagine what you think of me. When I was taken, I faced some bitter truths. I was told that, soon enough, Krennic would have you.

  “As time went by, I knew that you were either dead or so well hidden that he would never find you. But I knew if I refused to work, if I took my own life, it would only be a matter of time before Krennic realized he no longer needed me to complete the project.

  “So I did the one thing that nobody expected. I lied.

  “Or I learned to lie. I played the part of a beaten man resigned to the sanctuary of his work. I made myself indispensable, and all the while I laid the groundwork of my revenge.”

  He paused a moment, preparing himself to reveal his deepest secret, the thing that would seal his betrayal of the Empire.

  “We call it the Death Star. There is no better name.

  “My colleagues, many of them, have fooled themselves into thinking they are creating something so terrifying and powerful it will never be used. But they’re wrong. No weapon has ever been left on the shelf. And the day is coming soon when it will be unleashed.

  “I’ve placed a flaw deep within the system. A scar so small and powerful they’ll never find it.”

  He let the importance of that sink in before he continued.

  “Jyn, if you’re listening…” He stopped for a moment, clearly overwhelmed with the emotion of the idea that his daughter might still be alive. Jyn felt an answering pang in her heart.

  “My beloved, so much of my life has been wasted. I try to think of you only in the moments when I’m strong, because the pain of not having you with me—your mother, our family…

  “The pain of that loss is so overwhelming, I risk failing even now. It’s just so hard not to think of you. Think of where you are…”

  Galen bowed his head for a moment. Once he raised it, Jyn could see the look of determination burning in his eyes.

  “Saw. The reactor system. That’s the key. That’s the place I’ve laid my trap.

  “It’s unstable. So one blast to any part of it will destroy the entire station.

  “You’ll need the plans—the structural plans—to find your way, but they exist. I know there’s at least one complete engineering archive in the data vault in the Citadel Tower on Scarif. Any pressurized explosion to the reactor module will set off a chain reaction that will—”

  The message cut off. Jyn wanted to rail against it, to scream at her father to go on.

  Then she realized that the problem wasn’t with the recording but with the power to Saw’s entire base. All the lights had gone out at the same time.

  S
he looked out the window at Jedha City and saw why.

  CASSIAN COULD hear the destruction of Jedha City roaring outside the rebels’ hideout, although he didn’t know what it was at first. The noise drew the guards away from the cells, and Cassian took advantage of that to pick the lock on their cell door. The guards may have taken the obvious weapons from him, but they’d missed others, the kinds of things that Cassian relied on to get himself out of a tight pinch.

  The moment Cassian got the door open, he burst out of the cell. Baze went right after him, calling for Chirrut to follow.

  Cassian charged over to a table where the guards had stashed the things they’d taken from him and the others. He found his comlink and flicked it on.

  “Kay-Tu! Kay-Tu! Where are you?” he shouted into it.

  The droid’s voice came through immediately. “There you are! I’m standing by as you ordered, though there is a problem on the horizon. There is no horizon.”

  Cassian felt his blood run cold. This was the worst-case scenario he’d dreaded from the moment he’d first been sent on this mission: to have the doomsday weapon he was trying to stop be turned against him.

  “Lock on to my comm and locate our position!” he ordered K-2SO. “Bring that ship in here now!”

  Cassian scooped up the rest of his gear and turned to see Baze and Chirrut standing behind him.

  “Where are you going?” Chirrut asked.

  “I’ve got to find Jyn,” Cassian said. Then he remembered what they had gone to Jedha for in the first place.

  “Get the pilot!” he said to Baze. “We need him!”

  Baze didn’t understand all the reasons for that, Cassian knew, but the man decided to trust him anyhow. “All right. I’ll get the pilot.”

  Cassian didn’t know if Baze meant to save the pilot or kill him. He understood the grudge the man held against Imperials, after all. But Cassian decided he didn’t have time to do anything other than trust Baze, too. He sprinted off to find Jyn.