by Revis, Beth
On Coruscant, her mother had signed her up for kinesthetic and gymnastic lessons. “Because you always have so much energy!” Mama had said with a laugh. But maybe that hadn’t been the whole reason.
Jyn tested the weight of the clubs. She thought about how much force to apply against the flesh inside the armor.
“Go,” Saw ordered.
Jyn took a deep breath and slowly approached the closest stormtrooper, the one she had shot. It was easier, somehow, to think of beating the dead body of the stormtrooper she’d already shot once. She reared back with all her weight and slammed the club into its abdomen. The stormtrooper swung wide, and Jyn fell to the ground. She had struck with the expectation of hitting a body in armor; instead she realized that the stormtrooper armor was empty. Jyn squinted at the other stormtroopers strung up on the tower and noticed how easily they moved in the wind. None of them were people, just the outer shell of armor.
“Again,” Saw said in an even voice as Jyn stood back up and brushed herself off.
Her arm ached from how she had fallen, and she dropped the truncheons with a soft thud at her feet. “I can just use a blaster,” she said. “I don’t have to do all this.”
Saw made his way slowly to Jyn, then knelt on one knee in front of her so he was looking right into her eyes. “I have seen freedom fighters survive in battles against blasters and laser cannons,” he said, not even blinking. “And I have seen rebels take down armies with nothing more than rocks and sticks.”
He picked up the truncheons and pressed them into Jyn’s hands.
“Again,” he said, standing up and stepping back as Jyn assumed her fighting stance.
Jyn forced herself to picture the troopers who had killed her mother, to remember the fear she had felt when they chased her, the rage when they took her father. She felt those memories inside her like a burning ember in her belly, and she only let the clubs fall from her numb fingers when she was certain her fire wouldn’t dim.
Jyn soon learned why Saw had bunkers with beds in them. The first ship landed on their little island the next month, and soon after, another. People greeted Saw like an old friend, stared at Jyn curiously, and filed into the rooms with beds as if they’d stayed there many times before.
They brought their own food.
“Only Saw could live on that crap,” one of the new arrivals, a Twi’lek named Xosad Hozem, said as he unloaded groceries into the cabinets. “You’re a cute little thing,” he added to Jyn, curiosity in his voice.
“Go to your room,” Saw said, and Jyn fled.
The others were loud. They talked a lot. They drank a lot. But they were mostly friendly. There was Xosad, the Twi’lek Saw knew from “the good old days,” and a crew of young men he’d brought with him—two more Twi’leks and a Togruta. Reece Tallent was a human, about twenty or so, Jyn guessed, with dark brown hair and nice blue eyes. He had a similar accent to Saw’s, and Jyn wondered if they were from the same planet. A woman came often as well, closer to Saw’s age, with black skin that seemed to sparkle blue in the light and hair that grew straight up from her head. She was so beautiful that Jyn couldn’t help staring at her, and she spoke her name with a lilting, musical voice: Idryssa Barruck. She carried a pair of machetes on her back, thick heavy weapons that didn’t seem to fit her lithe gracefulness.
Idryssa also brought clothes for Jyn. Saw had been giving her old things—oversized shirts Jyn wore as dresses, pants she cinched in with a leather belt. Idryssa brought Jyn real clothes and had a private conversation with her about hygiene and health. Jyn suspected Saw had invited Idryssa in part just to talk to her, and she appreciated both the kindness and the fact that he never brought it up.
After getting to know Idryssa better, Jyn was brave enough to go into the big common room while everyone else was there. Saw noticed her first and nodded that it was okay for her to pillage the cabinets for food.
“My men have been to Christophsis, and there’s nothing there,” Xosad was saying. The Togruta nodded in agreement.
“The Empire had done some mining there, but they were gone when we looked, and it didn’t seem like they were coming back,” he said.
“Ilum is another story,” Idryssa said.
Jyn paused as she reached for a wrapped pastry in the cabinet, a rare treat in Saw’s outpost. She recognized that name, Ilum. Her father had spoken of it before, but he had told her it was a secret world, used by the Jedi. Jyn could see her father clearly, standing in their apartment on Coruscant, talking about how the Jedi had kept such a valuable planet to themselves for so long and how the Empire was now protecting it. Jyn would have forgotten about the conversation had it not been for the disapproving scowl of her mother as she shook her head at Papa’s words.
Jyn wasn’t surprised that Saw knew about Ilum; he had been following Papa’s work since he’d helped them move to Lah’mu. But these other people seemed to know just as much.
Reece spread out a star chart on the table. “It’s obvious the Empire’s interested in these areas,” he said, pointing to the map in a way Jyn couldn’t see. She crept closer. Everyone was focused on Reece. “And my contact thinks he saw Galen here.”
Jyn sucked in a breath, and Saw spun around to look at her, his eyes widening in a warning. Jyn clamped her mouth shut. Saw jerked his head, but Jyn stood her ground, refusing to move.
“What other information can you give us?” Idryssa asked Saw. She shifted, the blue highlights in her skin sparkling under the radiated lamps built into the stone ceiling.
Saw’s mouth worked as if he wanted to swallow his answer, but he finally said, “I know he worked with crystals for the Empire, and whatever his research was, it was very important to them.”
Across from him, Xosad nodded and shared a knowing glance with Saw.
“Galen Erso is a known supporter of the Empire,” Reece said dismissively. “He’s a respected scientist, but I don’t see how crystals—”
“Crystals are more powerful than you may think,” Idryssa said in a quiet voice. “Do not forget that the Jedi used them.”
Reece made a snorting noise. “Jedi,” he scoffed. “Bringing them up doesn’t exactly prove your point. If they had ‘powerful’ crystals, they wouldn’t all be dead.”
A known supporter of the Empire? Jyn wondered. Papa? She shook her head. He had worked with the Empire, yes, but he had fled from it, and he didn’t want to go back.
“That’s a good point, though,” Saw said, tapping his chin. “The Empire wouldn’t want a scientist of Galen’s caliber just for knowledge’s sake. There has to be a reason for their support of his research.”
Reece leaned back in his chair. “No, there doesn’t,” he said dismissively. “Saw, buddy, you’re reading too much into this. Galen Erso is a shill. He’s sucked up to the right people in the Empire, and he is living the high life on Coruscant. His research is meaningless.”
“That’s not true!” Jyn shouted.
Every single person turned to her.
“Jyn’s right,” Saw said loudly. “His research is key to understanding what the Empire is planning next.” Jyn opened her mouth to protest—she was angry at the way Reece had dismissed her father—but Saw clamped a hand on her shoulder and steered her back to her room.
“That’s not true,” she hissed at him again as soon as her bedroom door shut. “Papa wouldn’t work for the Empire like that. He’s a good man! They kidnapped him,” she said.
Saw looked doubtful.
“They did .” Jyn’s voice was rising, and Saw shushed her. She could feel angry tears fighting their way into her eyes. The injustice of it—to have someone like Reece talk about her father like that, as if he were a bad man!
“Jyn, it’s not looking good,” Saw said in a low voice. “I’ve been tracking the Empire’s movements. I’ve tried to figure out what it was your father was working on that made the Empire show up on Lah’mu. And your father…”
“I saw him,” Jyn said, stomping her foot. “He didn’t
want to go. He wanted to stay with me. He did. ”
Saw gave her a sad, pitying look, then stood and left her alone in the dark room.
Jyn glared at Reece whenever she saw him. She wished he would get off her island.
But she had learned her lesson. If she stayed quiet, Saw would let her listen in while the others were talking.
“There are more blockades around certain planets,” Xosad said the next day.
“Any connection between the planets?” Saw asked.
“Not that we can see,” one of Xosad’s crew piped up. “But it’s hard to get to some of them. We need clearance codes.”
“Forging them takes work and patience,” another crew member said. He dropped a code replicator on the table.
When the others shifted to different talk, about a growing partisan group based on Corlus, Jyn snuck to the table where the code replicator sat. She’d seen them tinkering with it before, and it fascinated her. She pressed one of the buttons tentatively, then picked up the replicator. It was about the same size as a datapad but thicker and heavier.
“The little mouse is in the cheese,” Reece said dryly, looking down his nose at Jyn. She dropped the code replicator.
“Let her play,” the crew member said. “She can’t hurt anything.”
Jyn stuck her tongue out at Reece, took the replicator, and retreated to the corner of the room.
Clearance codes for ships were already loaded in as masters, but each individual code could not be exactly copied or the Empire would know it was a fake. Instead, the code replicator helped simulate the complicated algorithm the Empire used to develop ship transponder and clearance codes. It was like a puzzle, and while it was tedious, Jyn’s mind retreated into the symbols and numbers.
Once, when Jyn had had trouble sleeping after first moving to Lah’mu, Papa had told her to recite the multiplication tables or list prime numbers in her mind until she fell asleep. Working on the code replicator didn’t put her to sleep—it was too challenging—but it was just as relaxing. There was a steady lull to the numbers.
“Heh, look at her go,” Xosad said when the group broke up to prepare dinner.
Saw stood over her shoulder, and Jyn held up the code replicator for him to look at. He cocked an eyebrow. “Not bad,” he said, scanning the data. “We’ll make a forger out of you yet.”
Xosad started opening jars of some sort of vegetable and mashing them into a pot to make a sauce. “So, I contacted my man on Coruscant,” he said casually to Saw.
Saw’s eyes went to Jyn’s immediately, and he shook his head just a little. “And?”
“Galen Erso is definitely there.”
“He is?” Jyn breathed, hope in her voice.
“Excuse us,” Saw said. Jyn didn’t want to leave, but Saw’s fingers dug into her shoulder until she winced. As she followed him back to her room, she couldn’t help noticing the way Reece watched her, his chin jutting out and his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“That’s Papa they’re talking about,” Jyn said as soon as her bedroom door was closed. She hated the whine in her voice.
Saw sighed in defeat. “And you have a right to know what they’re saying about him,” he said finally. “But I can’t let them know you’re Galen Erso’s daughter.”
Jyn shook her head. “Why not?” she asked.
Saw knelt so his warm brown eyes were even with hers. “Jyn, I promise to tell you everything after supper. Xosad and the others are all leaving then. I’ll tell you everything. But not in front of them.”
“I won’t say anything,” Jyn said. “I just want to listen.”
“He’s your father, Jyn,” Saw said. “Of course you’ll say something. Stay here. I promise. Do you trust me?”
Jyn nodded reluctantly.
She could hear them on the other side of the door, laughing and talking, silverware clattering on the clay plates as they ate whatever it was Xosad had made for everyone. She tried to pick out each individual’s voice, and then to discern their words, but it was all dulled by the heavy rock walls and steel door separating them.
She paced her room. Back and forth, back and forth. She wished she had the code replicator. She could distract herself with numbers.
She thought about that last day.
Jyn, whatever I do, I do it to protect you. Her father’s voice had been almost calm, deep and solemn. He had spoken those words with such conviction and certainty, and he had looked straight into Jyn’s eyes as he said them. When she closed her eyes, she could see his face. His hair was always unkempt; he never had time for a haircut. Mama had laughed at him about it all the time, saying she would have to tie him down just to trim his hair. And he had a little beard, something he hadn’t bothered with on Coruscant. There were gray hairs in it, coarse and scraggly. They tickled Jyn’s face whenever Papa hugged her.
She took a deep breath. He had been serious when he spoke to her then. His dark eyes unwavering. The lines on his face etched deep with worry.
Say you understand, he’d said. He had spoken those words like a promise. A covenant between them.
I understand, Jyn had replied in a clear, true voice. She felt so much younger then. But she had meant it. She understood what he was saying, and she believed it. She believed him.
Jyn sat down on her little bed on the floor and waited.
She heard the others say their good-byes. She heard the ships leaving. She heard Saw walk to her door, hesitate for several long moments.
And then he came inside.
“Jyn,” he said, his voice heavy.
I do it to protect you.
“I want the truth,” Jyn said.
Saw sat down on the floor in front of Jyn. He took a deep breath.
“Ever since I picked you up on Lah’mu, I’ve been looking for your father and trying to figure out what the Empire wanted with him,” Saw said. “I know his research into crystals, I know the Empire must have a reason for it. He covered his tracks well. I’ve had some contacts of mine—not just Xosad and the others, different people—”
“Spies,” Jyn supplied.
“You could call them that.” Saw shrugged. “I’ve reached out. Tried to see if he needed help. Tried to tell him about you.”
“Could you not find him?” Jyn asked.
Saw watched her without letting his face show emotion. “We found him,” he said.
“Where is he? In prison somewhere?” Jyn’s heart leapt to her throat. “Is he hurt?”
“No.” Saw shook his head. “He’s fine. He’s on Coruscant.”
The air left Jyn’s body. “Coruscant. He could—I could go to him.” It wouldn’t be the same without Mama, but…
Saw was still shaking his head. “He could leave any time he wanted to,” he said.
“Maybe he doesn’t know where I am,” Jyn said quickly. “You can take me to him, in your shuttle.”
“Galen Erso is working alongside Orson Krennic.” Saw spoke in clear tones, enunciating each word, as if he knew the truth would cut her and it would be cleaner if he used a sharp razor rather than a dull blade. “Your father is working—knowingly—with the Empire. He reports directly to Imperial forces. He has made it entirely clear to my sources that he has chosen a side, and that side is the Empire.”
“No!” Jyn shouted, the word erupting from within her. “That’s not true!”
“Just because you don’t want to hear a truth doesn’t make it less true,” Saw said in that same calm voice.
“But you don’t know ,” Jyn insisted, her voice turning into a plea. “It just seems like he’s working for the Empire. Maybe he’s being forced or…” Her voice trailed off at Saw’s pitying look.
“Has he said it?” Jyn asked. “Has he said he chose the Empire?”
Saw shook his head.
It can’t be true, Jyn thought. Papa can’t lie. Everyone said so. Mama used to make fun of him for it. He was a terrible liar. Jyn wouldn’t believe he left her for the Empire unless he said he did.
“Jyn…” Saw started, and the tone of his voice broke her heart and her resolve.
She shook her head frantically, the ends of her hair whipping her cheeks, her whole body screaming no, no, no over and over again.
“Galen Erso has chosen which side he wants to be on, and it’s not ours.”
Jyn stood up. “Mama died !” she screamed. “I watched her be killed by that man! And Papa works for him now?”
“By all appearances, they’re friends,” Saw said.
Jyn threw herself at Saw. She used everything she had learned in the weeks she’d been living with him, punching and kicking, slashing out at him. Anything to make him hurt the way she was hurting.
And Saw took it. He didn’t raise a hand to defend himself. He let her slap him and slam her fist into his chest. He let her scream in his face without flinching. And when she started to tire, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, and just held her.
“He’s not coming for you,” Saw said. “You can’t trust him. The bastard’s with the Empire now.”
Jyn stared down at the floor, and Saw let the silence hang between them.
“I understand,” Jyn said, the emotion drained from her voice. My father is alive, she thought. My father is a coward. She thought the word Saw had used. My father is a bastard.
Time passed. Years. And Jyn’s knowledge that Papa had left her for good, had chosen the Empire over her, was cemented by the proof of his continued absence.
But she didn’t cry about it ever again.
Sometimes Saw left on “missions.” Sometimes people came to Saw. Handfuls of men and women at a time, occasionally organized groups, more often a hodgepodge of discontented people who were looking for a fight. Jyn had thought the first night at Saw’s outpost that he’d given her an old office as a sign of how unimportant she was, but she came to value her private room, especially when the bunkers filled up with more people than they could hold.
The better Jyn got at fighting, the more Saw let her participate when visitors came to the outpost. He instructed her very clearly: She was to listen. She was to judge. She was to decide whether or not the mission presented to Saw was worthwhile in the fight against the Empire. He always consulted Jyn. He didn’t always take her advice, but he always listened, and that meant more to her than she could say.
