by Revis, Beth
She was surprised at the woman she saw there.
Saw didn’t like mirrors, and the sea outside was always too rocky to be reflective. And Jyn rarely cared about her appearance. But she paused now, staring at herself.
First she saw her eyes. Her father used to say that she had stardust in her eyes, that’s what made them such an unusual color. She could still hear his voice, his whiskers scratching her chin as he hugged her and whispered, I love you, Stardust.
Jyn shook herself, dispelling the memory. She set her jaw, steeling her spine, letting her sorrow give her strength.
And then she saw her mother in her reflection.
Jyn reached out, touching the smooth surface of the door, her fingertips pressing against the cold metal. That was the way her mother had stood. Tall. Proud.
Determined.
Jyn spent so much of her life hoping she could be different from her father, sometimes she forgot how much she wished she could be half as brave as her mother. She squared her shoulders.
She would prove that she was.
On the ride to Horuz, Staven went over additional details with Jyn. He described the landscape, the timing, the drop point and rendezvous point. “We’ve set some other traps for him and the work detail,” he added. “But Saw likes having insurance.”
Jyn’s fingers ran over the barrel of the long-range blaster. It did not escape her notice when they pulled out of hyperspace that Staven was using forged ship clearance codes that Jyn had made for Saw in her spare time.
Staven dropped Jyn off near a little canyon. “If they follow our intel,” he said, “they’ll be walking on a trail down there.” He pointed over the edge of the cliff, at the dusty canyon floor. “But if not, the other access point is that way.” He pointed south, at another trail cut into the small forest. From Jyn’s vantage point, she had cover and a clear view of both trails. “Either way,” Staven concluded, “they’ll likely end up there.” He indicated a point about a kilometer away from Jyn. She viewed it through her sniper scope. That was her target.
Staven left, and she was alone.
Saw had arranged for Jyn to arrive on Horuz early, so she had hours to wait. Hours to wait, with a blaster in her hand.
I can do this, she thought, and knew it to be true.
She didn’t let herself think of whether or not she wanted to.
When the Imperial scouts finally came, long after the time she’d been expecting them, Jyn was nearly asleep. She scrambled to attention. They came from the second trail, through the trees. Jyn was glad of her position, of the way she was mostly hidden on the canyon ridge.
She drew in a breath. The blaster was set up with a small tripod. She’d calculated the distance, the angles. She watched the dust cloud rise as the small transport unit pulled to a stop just outside of the area Staven had said they would be.
Jyn took a deep breath.
The first time she was supposed to pull the trigger, it had been a scientist. One that reminded her of her father. And he’d been right in front of her. She could hear him, smell him.
This was better. This was farther away. Impersonal.
Jyn squared Dorin Bell in her sights. He was younger than Jyn had expected. He was smiling. Jyn moved the scope down, to Dorin’s chest, where she didn’t have to see the easy curve of his lips, the light in his eyes. Jyn focused on the gray of the Imperial uniform, the little black shield badge over Dorin’s heart.
She looked over the scope. From that distance, they hardly looked like people at all.
Jyn angled her head down, pressing her eye into the scope. She charged the modified blaster, and the additional power cell hummed.
Her finger felt the curve of the trigger.
It’s just like target practice, she told herself, but her mind was screaming at her, over and over: It’s not, it’s not, it’s not.
She thought of Saw. Of the disappointment on his face when she’d failed the detonator test.
She squeezed the trigger.
The blaster jumped in her hand, the overclocked power cell so hot that it left a scalding blister on her palm. She didn’t notice that though; she was distracted by the billow of smoke and dust that rose up from the area where, moments before, the Imperials had been standing. A booming echo rang across the land.
“The traps,” she muttered. Staven had told her that she was insurance, that there were traps laid where the Imperials were expected to be. Something must have triggered them; she assumed they were land mines, based on the explosion. Jyn forced herself to watch the cloud dissipate, to look for survivors. To prepare.
When the dust and smoke cleared, she used her sniper scope to examine the carnage. She saw Dorin Bell’s body, broken, bleeding, and she squinted at his wounds, inspecting them. She was equally ashamed and relieved that it had been the land mines, not her blast that had killed him.
After that mission, Jyn never knew when she woke up if Saw would send her outside to train or if he’d tell her to load up and meet him on the ship. She liked the unexpectedness of her life and the fact that she was a partner, not a student. Most of their missions were to worlds in the Outer Rim, typically along trade routes. Saw was preoccupied with the Empire’s increased focus on cargo, certain that it was gearing up for a major weapons development. Ore from Siriamp, Jelucan, and Centori; the occupied mines on Ilum…Saw went over galactic maps nightly, trying to connect the pieces of the Empire’s plans. While he did that, Jyn scoured all the records she could, gathering information on how to falsify clearance codes and develop scandocs so that Saw could continue his missions. The Empire was showing more and more interest in the planets on the edges of civilization, and the previously neglected reaches of the Outer Rim were starting to feel very crowded indeed.
So she was a little surprised when Saw told her their next mission would be to Inusagi, a wealthy planet in the Mid Rim.
“What’s the mission?” Jyn asked, confused.
Saw frowned. “Not our normal fare, but it pays well,” he confessed.
“Normal fare” meant getting closer to Jyn’s father. Jyn felt the obsession Saw did just as acutely, although for a different reason. She didn’t care what her father was making for the Empire; she just wanted to face him one last time. She wasn’t sure if she’d use the chance to punch him or ask him why he had abandoned her, but she hoped that, one day, she’d get the opportunity to do at least one of those things.
“If this isn’t linked to the Empire, what is it?” Jyn asked.
“It’s still linked to the Empire, just not the big mission,” Saw said. He tossed her a holocube, and when Jyn activated it, she found herself staring into the face of a Zabrak woman. It was hard to tell on the cheap holocube, but Jyn guessed she had yellowish skin, with green-black horns like a crown around her head. She wore a heavy faceplate that covered her forehead and shot between her eyes, down to her nose. It curled over the top of her head, adding metal spikes between her natural horns.
“Arane Oreida,” Saw said. “Hates most humans, by the way. Good thing I’m so handsome.” He crinkled his scarred face in a ferocious grin.
Jyn frowned. “If she hates humans, then why—”
“Arane is notoriously suspicious,” Saw said. “We’re given pieces, not the whole. She’s paying for my services.”
“And those services are…?” Jyn asked.
“She needs two fighters,” Saw said. “Me and Maia, I think. Maybe Codo.”
Jyn’s heart sank. She was still, after everything, not good enough.
“You’re in this, too, kid,” Saw said, ruffling Jyn’s hair. “There are a lot of players on this one. We each have a specific role.”
“So what are we doing?”
Saw nodded to the holocube, and Jyn activated it. “The operatives in Group C, under Stoneface’s command,” Arane started in an imperious voice.
“My code name,” Saw said. He tilted his face to the light, setting his jaw in a hard line. Jyn giggled.
“Obtain clear
ance codes for ships landing on Inusagi. Arrange for access for operatives in Alpha Group to the main floor of the palace during the dedication ceremony. Guests have been sent a special imagecaster branded for the occasion and with an XLD security chip.”
Jyn shrugged. “That’s not very secure.”
Saw spoke over Arane’s holographic image. “It’s a party, not a top-secret military function. So you think you can handle something like that?”
“Sure,” Jyn said. “The clearance codes—no problem. The invites may be more difficult. If I had one to copy…?”
Arane had sent one legitimate imagecaster invitation and provided Saw with a dozen blanks. “We absolutely need ten,” Saw said. “So there’s a little room for error. But if you can make all twelve work, that’s better.”
Jyn inspected the official imagecaster. “Shouldn’t be a problem,” she said. “I’ll need some things.”
Saw took careful notes of everything Jyn suggested he get so she could replicate the invitations, then immediately sent one of his underlings to the nearest world with a tradepost. They had less than a standard month to complete the task, but Jyn was fairly certain she would need only half that time.
The outside of the imagecaster was painted in swirling designs of red and gold, the display base made of what looked like actual golden honeycomb. A scandoc had cleverly been inserted into the bottom of the imagecaster, and when Jyn twirled the three legs at the perimeter, the holo started automatically.
A young woman who looked a few years older than Jyn, in her early twenties, was illuminated in the holographic light. Rather than show just her face, the small image showed the girl’s whole body. The imagecaster was an expensive model, and the girl was illuminated in vivid detail, her clothes seemingly woven from light. Her rich brown skin seemed to glow even more against the bright red embroidered cloth that she wore tightly wound around her body. A cascade of silky black hair extended almost to her knees, curling slightly at the ends.
“As the chieftess of Inusagi,” the woman said, her voice tinkling through the small speakers of the imagecaster, “I welcome you to our planet’s annual sakoola blossom festival. This imagecaster will also allow you entry to the special dedication ceremony in honor of our first Imperial governor. Please present it to the royal guard upon your arrival, but until then, I encourage you to learn more about Inusagi and our royal heritage.” The girl threw her arms up at the end of her speech, as if celebrating a great win.
Before the holo cut off, the woman lowered her arms, her shoulders sinking, and there was a flash of emotion on her tiny, illuminated face, one that spoke of defeat.
Jyn scanned the contents of the imagecaster. The information on Inusagi was cursory at best, highlighting its contributions to the Empire and glossing over the years of “negotiations”—many of which grew violent—before the planet’s fall into the Empire’s hands. Inusagi had remained chiefly unimportant for centuries, benefiting from its position near wealthier planets but without key exports itself. It had mostly been successful in its attempts to remain neutral throughout the years, but clearly that neutrality was over. A planet was either for the Empire, or it was crushed under the Empire’s heels.
The final holo held a message from the Empire. “Inusagi is a planet rich in culture and arts,” Lieutenant Colonel Senjax, official military correspondent for the Imperial Broadcast, said. Unlike the chieftess’s opening speech, the lieutenant colonel’s holo showed him from the chest up, as if he were speaking directly to Jyn. “The Empire is pleased to bring this diverse planet under its wing. Inusagi’s strong alliance with the Empire will prove that new beginnings under our beloved Emperor can lead to prosperity and happiness for all the galaxy’s citizens. We look forward to greeting you at the sakoola blossom festival.”
“Oh, I bet you can’t wait to see us,” Jyn told the flickering image just before she turned off the device.
“Nice work,” Saw said when Jyn finished duplicating the last invitation. “I honestly can’t tell which is the original.”
Jyn beamed at him. It had taken a lot of work to replicate both the outer appearance of the imagecasters and the internal information. Copying the holos over had been simple enough, but duping the scandocs had required much more time and patience. She had spent so much of the past few years developing the physical side of her training that she’d almost forgotten how wonderful it was to focus on something that was entirely a mental activity.
Saw glanced up at Jyn. “You constantly amaze me,” he said. “Not many people could have done this, but I knew you could.”
“I enjoyed figuring it out,” she said, shrugging despite her pride at his words. “It was like solving a puzzle.”
“Must run in your blood,” Saw said.
Jyn’s head whipped up. “No, it doesn’t.” Her eyes flashed. Saw rarely spoke that directly about her father.
Saw nodded—his way of admitting he shouldn’t have reminded Jyn of her past. “Ready to go?” he asked.
Jyn nodded eagerly. She hadn’t been sure she’d be invited to join Saw on the mission. This partisan group led by the Zabrak…Jyn had never worked with them before, although she suspected Saw had, during one of the missions when he’d left her behind.
Saw tossed the imagecasters into a large canvas bag that was already full of something soft, then shrugged the bag onto his shoulder. He led the way to his ship. Maia was already there, smiling at Jyn.
Saw climbed into the pilot’s seat, and they headed off.
“Excited?” Maia asked Jyn. They both swayed as Saw maneuvered the ship through the asteroid belt.
Jyn nodded. “But it’s a bit odd, isn’t it? I don’t even know what you and Saw are doing on Inusagi, other than that you’re meeting others. Why didn’t that woman—”
“Arane,” Maia supplied.
Jyn nodded. “Why didn’t she just hire Saw to do it all? Instead of passing these imagecasters off to strangers, we could have worked as a team.”
Maia nodded darkly. “I don’t think Saw likes it, either,” she said in a low voice. “But the anti-Imperial groups are too spread out. We have to work together when we can. This could be a good thing, a sign of a forthcoming alliance.”
Jyn frowned, remembering what Saw had said about Arane not liking humans. Even though Saw worked with Jari and Xosad and others who weren’t human, the majority of his cadre was. She somehow doubted that Arane wanted anything to do with Saw other than paying him to do whatever dirty work she didn’t want the nonhumans doing.
The ship jumped to hyperspace, and Jyn heard the familiar thump of Saw’s boots on the metal flooring. “This is the way Arane works,” he said, shooting Jyn and Maia a look that told them he’d heard their conversation. “Keeps things secure.”
“But we usually don’t work like this,” Jyn said.
Saw frowned. “Maybe we should.”
“Or maybe,” Maia interrupted, “we should work closer together. Idryssa—”
Saw growled, and Maia clamped her lips shut.
He jerked his head toward the back of the ship. “Go change,” he said, tossing Jyn the large satchel he’d carried aboard.
Jyn opened it to reveal a set of Inusagian robes in petal green, with gold embroidery on the hem that matched the sparkling sakoola blossoms Jyn had seen in the imagecaster’s holo.
“We need to blend in,” Saw said, grimacing.
“It’ll do you good to clean up,” Maia said, pulling out her own bag from the storage unit.
“Go on,” Saw growled.
Jyn headed to a more private corner and stripped her clothes. She thought of the beautiful, young, and obviously naïve chieftess of Inusagi as she took off her usual pants and shirt and replaced them with the finely embroidered cloth. She carefully tucked her kyber crystal necklace under the robe and smoothed the material over her body. She was usually proud of the way she didn’t look like a girl—she would much rather show off her biceps than her breasts—but that day she relished her curves
, winding the cloth tightly around her torso and admiring the way it swished around her legs and hips when she moved. She pulled her hair out of its usual messy bun, arranging it as best she could so it curled down her back. Saw didn’t exactly keep cosmetics around, but Jyn dusted her face with the talc she found in the bag and bit her lips to make them pinker.
“Nice,” Maia said. She wore a similar set of robes, but there was extra padding around her body, making her look fatter than she was. Maia had also stripped the synthskin gloves from her hands. She kept twisting her fingers, as if unused to feeling the world with her actual skin.
“You clean up well,” Jyn said, looking past Maia at Saw.
The suit was a bit tight around his broad chest, but the colors brought out the deep brown tones of his skin. The fine material made him look almost regal. Jyn felt as though she was wearing a costume, but Saw looked like a king.
“This is yours,” he said, tossing her a green purse that was embroidered to match her robes. Inside, the dozen imagecaster invitations were nestled in small pockets in the liner.
“The other members of the group will recognize you by your robes.” Saw indicated the elaborate, distinctive embroidery all along the hem. “The code word is cloud . Get the others inside.”
Jyn nodded her understanding. The ship dropped out of hyperspace, but her stomach had been left somewhere behind her in space. The mission felt…off. She didn’t like working with Arane, with her obvious disdain for humans. She didn’t like how fractured the mission was.
Saw gave his clearance codes, and Jyn smiled with satisfaction as they were approved to dock in the spaceport without question. He maneuvered the ship down, and Jyn eagerly leaned over, looking out at Inusagi’s beautiful landscape. An azure river cut through the lush green hills and valleys near the capital city, a ribbon of blue that spun off into curlicues and large pools. She knew from her research that Inusagi’s landscape had been cultivated over centuries, and each pool represented a different community led by a noble house. The largest pool spilled over the cliff, forming a waterfall into the ocean. The chieftess’s palace was built on the cliff, a long rectangle of milky brown stone, one side facing the calm pools overlooking each of the lesser noble houses, one side facing the waterfall and the tumultuous sea at its base.
