Star Wars: Rebel Rising

by Revis, Beth

  Jyn’s heart twisted in rage. How could this man lie so easily? He knew as well as Jyn that it had been the Empire he loved that had both betrayed and hurt him. She wondered just what they had given him or threatened him with to make him speak on their behalf so soon after the attack.

  “I was on the ground at the time,” Lieutenant Colonel Senjax continued, “and I regret to inform the galaxy that the terrorist’s goals of annihilation made them far deadlier than typical separatist groups. However, the group has been utterly crushed, every single member who implemented the attack has been caught and punished.”

  “Saw,” Jyn whispered, water springing to her eyes. She’d assumed Saw had escaped. Had he and Codo been caught? But…the rest of the report was a lie. Maybe this was, too.

  “The Empire sent aid to Tamsye Prime immediately. In the medical bay, I was beside many citizens.” Lieutenant Colonel Senjax ducked his head. “I’m sad to say, there were few survivors.”

  At this, a hush followed by frantic whispers swept the crowd in the diner. Tamsye Prime wasn’t that far away from Skuhl. Some muttered individual names, people they had known who had likely been killed in the attack.

  “Remember,” Lieutenant Colonel Senjax continued, “the actions of a few anarchist terrorists cause much harm, destroying lives throughout the galaxy. But the Empire is working to protect you. With the new defense budget approved by the Senate this morning, I have no doubt our Empire will be even stronger than before. These small groups are no true threat to the Empire. Rest assured, you are safe.”

  “That didn’t happen.” Jyn looked to Akshaya and Hadder. “None of that—it wasn’t like that! I was there ! It wasn’t terrorists…it was—”

  “Shhh,” Akshaya demanded. Hadder’s eyes filled with worry. “We’re going,” Akshaya said, dropping some credits on the table and bustling Jyn and Hadder out. They didn’t stop on the street to talk to anyone else; Akshaya was practically running by the time they reached the end of town, and she didn’t let them speak until they were back in the privacy of the little blue house.

  “The Empire did that!” Jyn said. “I was there !”

  “You were on Tamsye Prime?” Hadder asked.

  Jyn nodded furiously. “And I saw the Star Destroyer. I saw the turbolaser fire. I saw the—” She stopped, unable to continue. She could still smell the sharp stench of burning.

  “It’s over,” Akshaya said firmly. “Whatever happened there, best to not bring it up again.”

  “But if the Empire…” Hadder started, but Akshaya slashed her hand in the air, silencing him.

  “We are several systems away from Tamsye Prime,” she said. “The Empire doesn’t reach this far.”

  “The Empire reaches everywhere,” Jyn whispered. “And we’re not that far away.”

  Akshaya threw an arm around her and pulled her into a hug that Jyn didn’t return. “It’s over,” she repeated. “You’re safe here. I promise.”

  Jyn closed her eyes and tried to believe it.

  Jyn woke early the next morning. She crept down the hall to the kitchen, hoping she could find some caf and a brew pot. She was surprised to see Hadder already up.

  “Bunn doesn’t cook itself,” he said, lifting the top of a big pressurized steamer. Jyn recognized the same long, sticky grains that had been the base of much of the food at the diner; bunn must be locally grown and very popular. Hadder had refilled the steamer the previous evening and let grains cook all night. From the large quantity of bunn in the basin, Jyn figured it was going to feature in every meal she had on Skuhl.

  “Want breakfast?” Hadder asked pleasantly.

  Jyn nodded.

  Hadder moved around the kitchen efficiently, frying up two eggs, setting caf to brew, flipping the eggs, and pouring two cups for himself and Jyn. “Mom likes to sleep in,” he said, handing her a mug. He scooped bunn out of the steamer with his bare hand, making a little mound in the center of a bowl and then sliding a fried egg on top.

  Jyn watched Hadder eat first—breaking the bright green yolk of the egg and mixing it with the sticky bunn—and then copied him.

  “None for me?” Akshaya asked, yawning and stretching as she entered the kitchen.

  Hadder jerked his head toward the griddle.

  “It wasn’t that long ago when my son cooked for me,” Akshaya said in a falsely bemoaning tone, “but now there’s a new pretty girl to distract him.”

  “Yup,” Hadder agreed cheerfully.

  Jyn put her spoon down. “I was thinking,” she said. “I need a job. I could try to learn how to fix your droid….”

  Hadder laughed. “You think Beethree even can be fixed?” he asked. “That hunk of junk has been broken for years.”

  “Or I could copilot,” Jyn offered. She wasn’t sure how much help she’d be if she actually had to pilot, but she was a fast learner.

  “No,” Akshaya said. “You’re too young.”

  “I’m sixteen,” Jyn said. She paused, thinking. “I could—”

  “No,” Akshaya said in a harsher tone of voice than Jyn had ever heard her use before.

  An uneasy silence stretched out, and even affable Hadder looked down at the table. Jyn wasn’t sure what she’d said that was so wrong, but it was clear she’d overstepped somewhere.

  “Docs,” Akshaya said finally. “You get me scandocs and clearance codes that help me avoid those blockades, and we’ll call it even.”

  “You can forge Imperial clearance codes?” Hadder asked, gaping at Jyn.

  “Helped me avoid a fine,” Akshaya said. “We’re not exactly scraping credits together, but that was a nice little bump.”

  “Maybe we can save up enough to replace Beethree,” Hadder said.

  “Yeah, that droid really isn’t worth fixing.” Jyn laughed. “You’d be better off using it for target practice.”

  Akshaya and Hadder exchanged a look. “Target…practice?” Akshaya asked.

  Jyn felt her cheeks burn. She had said the wrong thing. Again.

  “Well,” Jyn said, scooting her chair back. “I’ll get to work. I’ll put together a packet of different codes and scandocs that may be helpful, and—”

  Akshaya cut her off. “Jyn,” she said. “I’m not leaving again for a few days. You can take it easy.”

  “I—” Jyn started, but she wasn’t sure what else to say.

  “I, on the other hand, need to oversee the cargo dispersement,” Akshaya said, standing up. “I’ll see you later.”

  Jyn watched her go, then turned back to Hadder. She felt…adrift. What was she supposed to do if she wasn’t working? She couldn’t train as she had with Saw.

  “Why doesn’t she want a copilot?” Jyn asked Hadder. “I’m not that young.”

  Hadder just shook his head sadly. “That’s not it. It’s Tanith.” He looked like he was going to say more, but instead he ran his fingers through his dark hair. Jyn watched as the silky locks fluttered around his ears. He needed a haircut, but maybe he liked it that way, chin length and just enough in the way that he had an excuse to keep running his fingers through it. It was very distracting.

  “Who’s Tanith?” Jyn asked, pressing him for more information.

  Hadder’s gaze was distant. “She was my sister.”

  Jyn noted the way he said this, as if she was gone.

  “She died when I was seven,” Hadder said, confirming her suspicion. “You don’t have to say you’re sorry or anything,” he added quickly. “It happened a decade ago.”

  Jyn didn’t tell him that she hadn’t been intending to say she was sorry. She would never give pity to someone she liked. Instead, she said, “I lost my parents when I was eight.”

  Hadder looked at her. She had questions for him, and he had questions for her, but neither was sure what to say.

  Hadder broke the silence first. “Have you been on the run since then?”

  “Since I was eight?” Jyn laughed. “No, someone else took me in.” Her smile faded and she grew completely still. The group
has been utterly crushed, Lieutenant Colonel Senjax had said, every single member who implemented the attack has been caught and punished. Was Saw even still alive? Her mother’s death was long before, distant enough that she could speak of it without emotion. But Saw’s possible death…that was too recent.

  Hadder stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. “Come on,” he said.

  Jyn followed him to the bedroom she’d slept in the previous night. He went to the little shelf and pulled out the wooden box. Jyn had noticed it before, but as it wasn’t hers, she’d tried to ignore it. Three hypo-injectors lay at the bottom of the box, rolling around as Hadder handed it to Jyn. She looked at him curiously, but he nodded, prompting her to inspect the needles. They were empty.

  “‘Haidera serum,’” she said, reading the label and stumbling over the first word. Where had she heard about that before? “Oh,” she breathed, her eyes widening.

  Hadder nodded grimly.

  “This was your sister’s room,” she said, looking around at the small space with new eyes. “And she had bloodburn.”

  Bloodburn was a rare disease, mostly affecting younger people who spent a lot of time in space. It was incurable and often fatal, but haidera serum injections could help.

  “That’s not what killed her, though,” Hadder said.

  Jyn put the empty hypo-injector back in the box. She was only dimly aware of bloodburn, but she knew how addictive haidera serum could be and how easy it was to overdose.

  “Mum has it in her head that it’s her fault. After Pop died, Tanith started working with her on the ship. Then she got sick, and…” His eyes flicked back to the box. “And she’s convinced that bloodburn runs in families. Nothing I’ve ever been able to say has swayed her to believe I’d be safe to fly.”

  There was so much longing in his voice, such deep desire that Jyn was certain there was nothing Hadder wanted more than to fly like his mother, and that was the one thing he was forbidden to do.

  “I do have a bike though,” Hadder said. “Want to see?”

  He led Jyn to the hangar his mother used. A combination of droids and people were unloading the freighter with mag-lifts. Hadder waved at them cheerfully as he led Jyn to the back of the building, where a speeder bike was propped against the wall. It was a patchwork affair, cobbled together from different parts. “You made this?” Jyn asked.

  Hadder nodded proudly.

  “If you have skills like this, you should be the one to work on that broken droid.”

  “Oh, I have,” Hadder said. “That hunk of junk is beyond help. It’s futile. Mum probably just didn’t want you to think you were getting charity. You don’t look like the type to like charity.”

  Jyn glowered. She didn’t like charity, and she didn’t like the fact that both Akshaya and Hadder were apparently perfectly fine with deceiving her into taking it.

  Hadder, however, was completely oblivious to Jyn’s scowl. “Come on,” he said, throwing a leg over the speeder and scooting forward in the seat for Jyn to join him. She climbed aboard behind him. He flicked the repulsorlift, muttering, “Come on, come on,” under his breath as the engine warmed up. The speeder wobbled as the repulsors kicked on, and he adjusted the capacitor dials. “Ready?” he asked. “Hold on.” Jyn tentatively wrapped her arms around his waist.

  With a lurch, the speeder bike zoomed forward. They raced through the tall, blue-green grass, the long strands whipping against their legs. Hadder whooped in glee, leaning forward into the cool wind and pulling Jyn with him. Jyn looked behind her at the trail they cut through the grass, but Hadder’s eyes were focused on the horizon. He pushed the bike harder and harder, and Jyn knew he was imagining what was just beyond the horizon.

  She let herself fall into the joy of it, the speed, the wind, the reddish light as the sun dipped down, the startled vulpors that leapt through the grass, their long, silky tails swishing as they chittered angrily at the speeder. The faster they went, the more Jyn let herself pretend there was nothing more than that moment, there, nothing but speed and wind.

  Her fear and anxiety melted away. She let her hands slip from Hadder’s waist, trusting him to keep the bike steady. She raised her arms up, tilted her head back.

  She closed her eyes.

  She was flying.

  Hadder kicked at the controls, and the speeder started to turn, circling around. Jyn gasped, her heart lurching. She grabbed Hadder as the bike spun out of control. He whooped with laughter as he let go of the handlebars, twisting to hug her as they slid off the bike together. The speeder went a few meters without them before petering out, and together Jyn and Hadder hit the tall blue-green grass and rolled, the momentum forcing them to wrap their arms and legs together as they whirled through the grass. When they finally slowed to a stop, Hadder was on top of Jyn.

  She pushed him off. “What did you do that for?” she asked, standing, feeling a little wobbly after their unexpected dismount from the bike.

  Hadder grinned. “It just seemed like fun,” he said.

  “We could have broken our necks!”

  Hadder stretched out in the grass. “Yeah, but we didn’t. Besides, we weren’t going that fast.”

  Jyn couldn’t help laughing at him.

  “Mum’ll be at the refinery until late,” Hadder said. “We don’t have to go back in.” When Jyn didn’t move, he added, “You always look as if you’re about to run away. You’re allowed to just…I don’t know. Sit?”

  Jyn shook her hands, trying to dispel the nervous energy that was already winding its way inside her. She reminded herself that she liked being on the move. She had loved the spontaneity of Saw’s missions, how she’d never known if he’d knock on her door with a blaster and orders to fly halfway across the galaxy or if she’d spend the day training. She didn’t know what to do with herself when she had neither a mission nor the expectation of one.

  Hadder sat up and patted the patch of grass beside him. Jyn sat down tentatively. Hadder broke off a blade of the long grass and handed it to Jyn before popping one in his own mouth.

  Jyn shifted uncomfortably, not used to Hadder’s intense gaze. “What?” she asked more aggressively than she’d intended.

  “Your eyes are strange,” Hadder said pleasantly.

  “You do realize that’s not a compliment?”

  Hadder grinned. “Yeah, it is. They’re unique. I like that.”

  Jyn tried to look away, but she could still feel his gaze on her.

  “It’s like they shift color in the sunlight,” he continued, oblivious to her discomfort at his attention. “Like there’re holos in them or something.”

  “My father used to say that it looked as if there was stardust in my eyes,” Jyn said. “He called me that sometimes. Stardust.”

  Hadder repeated the word softly. “Yeah,” he said. “I like that.” He paused, and Jyn felt him look away, up toward the sky that was settling into dusk. “So what happened to your father?” he asked.

  Jyn shrugged, not answering him. It was easier to say he was dead, but she didn’t want to speak the lie in that moment. Without realizing what she was doing, she started to fiddle with her kyber crystal necklace.

  “Nice rock,” Hadder said casually.

  She dropped the crystal as if it had burned her, letting it fall against her chest, then quickly tucked it back under her shirt.

  Hadder stared at her. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said, “but you’re kind of weird.”

  Jyn rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “How am I supposed to not take that the wrong way? What other way could there be to take that?”

  Hadder’s grin was lopsided. “You want me to not think you’re weird? Answer some questions.”

  Jyn chewed on the end of the grass. “Fine,” she said begrudgingly. She could always lie.

  “What happened to your parents?” Hadder asked.

  “My mother’s dead.”

  “And your father?”

  “As good as.” Without meani
ng to, Jyn’s voice had taken on an edge, sharp as the knife she still hid in her boot.

  “Did he leave you on Tamsye Prime?” Hadder asked.

  “No,” Jyn said, her eyes focusing on the horizon. “My father didn’t leave me on Tamsye Prime. Saw did.”

  “Saw? Who’s he?” Now Hadder had an edge to his voice. Jyn shot him a look, trying to figure him out. He sounded almost like he wanted to protect her, which was ridiculous. He hardly knew her. And she didn’t need protecting.

  “He’s who I was living with. Kind of like family. We worked together.”

  Hadder squinted. “Which is it? Someone you lived with like family or a business partner?”

  “Can’t he be both?” Jyn asked.

  “No,” Hadder said in a way that made Jyn feel like she was slow. “If someone’s your family, they’re not your employer or just someone you share a house with. They’re…important.” He seemed to be struggling with the right words to make Jyn understand.

  Jyn thought of Saw. What had he been to her? He had been…everything. The only one she thought she could trust. But what had she been to him? He’d left her on Tamsye Prime. He had to, she told herself, remembering Reece. But he hadn’t come back for her. She thought of the sure way Lieutenant Colonel Senjax had spoken of the defeat of the rebels. She thought of Saw’s injuries, the way he had coughed blood.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Jyn said, swallowing her emotion. “He’s probably dead now.”

  “Oh.” Hadder didn’t speak again for a while, but then he said, “So you just got on the nearest ship and left.”

  “Pretty much.”