CHAPTER NINETEEN
( DON'T BE AN IDIOT. )

FAILURE had never frightened Kitra. After all, she grew up in a galaxy doomed to fail from the beginning. Failure, like death, was always something Kit saw as inevitable. One day she would fail, one day she would die, but there would always be another Rebel to pick up her blaster and carry on.

Now, however, failure wasn't an option. The fate of the Alliance, and every planet in the galaxy, was resting on the shoulders of every Rebel on Scarif. If they failed now, there would be nobody to pick up after them. But before they could even leave the shuttle they had to pass the inspection test, and already Kit could feel failure biting at her heels like a hungry beast closing in for the kill.

It felt like the weight of the universe was pressing in around her the closer she squeezed herself against the console, shoved into the space between the wall and Cassian's sharp shoulder. She listened, her heart hanging from the barber hooks in her throat, to the boarding ramp descend and the voices of the inspection crew carry across the metal deck. Fighting against the urge to let her laboured breaths be known, Kit strained to catch the murmured introductions by Bodhi and the scuff of boots as he led the Imperial crew through what should have been an empty cargo cruiser.

"Hey, you're probably looking for a manifest ..." Bodhi said, the confident lie he'd constructed deteriorating every time he spoke.

"That would be helpful," another replied abruptly.

"It's just down here."

Kit's throat tightened around the barbs embedded inside it as her finger jilted over the trigger of her blaster. The sound of boots inched closer and she ran through the possibilities in her mind; she might be able to launch herself out of her hiding space given the chance, but there was nothing to stop them searing holes into her a second after.

She heard the squeal of metal as the cargo compartment was opened. If she'd breathed too loud for a second longer she would have missed the sudden muffled cry and trio of bodies hitting the deck. Confused and partly curious, Kit squeezed out behind Cassian in time to find Baze emerging from the cargo hold, a wicked grin on his chapped lips. Behind him, Bodhi stared wide eyed among the Imperial bodies at his feet.

She couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at the edges of her cheeks. "Off to a good start."

• • •

KIT hated the way Cassian looked in the Imperial uniform, hated the way he looked so at home in the stark grey material, even the code cylinder in his pocket tipped to a regulation perfect angle. He'd done this all before, she knew, and it was just part of the charade, but that didn't change the weight that settled in the bottom of her stomach like a rock when she watched Cassian readjust the cap sitting over his slicked back hair.

He turned to face her, and some part of her relaxed when his eyes found hers, the same shade of burnt hazel they'd always been. "Are you ready?" He asked, twining his fingers through hers.

"Do I have a choice?" She asked, a bitter smile painted on her lips. "We have to be."

"Ready to go Captain?" One of the soldiers asked, and Cassian nodded once. One by one the Rebels filed down the ramp, swallowed by the bright Scarif sun, until it was Cassian's turn to follow them out too.  When he finally went to let go of her hand Kit couldn't find the strength to release him, clutching it like it was the only thing anchoring her down.

He turned, resting his free hand over hers, and for the first time since she was sixteen Kitra Erso was more afraid of losing him than her own life. She blinked back the glassy film of tears that glazed her eyes and looked down at their intertwined hands. She was an idiot to fall in love with a man too willing to die. She was an idiot for falling in love at all.

But what could she do about it now? What do you say to a man you might never see again? How do you tell someone you loved them when it might be the last chance you get?

"Don't be an idiot, Andor."

Cassian laughed fleetingly, his thumb raising to trace her cheekbone, drawing her eyes up to meet his. "I'll leave that to you, Erso."

Kit laughed bitterly, and then without realising a tear escaped the corner of her eye and traced a gentle path down her cheek, stopping by Cassian's thumb and holding there. She doubted that there was anything so gentle in the galaxy as his skin against hers, or anything as sad as his umber brown eyes. And time decided that that moment would last a lifetime, even if it was only a few seconds long.

For a second she wanted to tell him how much he meant to her. She wanted to tell him how much she hated that stupid grey tunic and how much she loved the way that one strand of hair that had fallen across his forehead. She wanted to tell him one thousand things, but she couldn't find the words.

"I love you," she said, and in those three words she knew he understood.

"I love you too," he said, and at that point she realised that she wasn't holding onto his hand anymore. But by the time she'd looked up Cassian Andor and his stupid grey tunic were swallowed by the white Scarif sun.

  • • • 

EVERYONE was gone. Well, almost everyone. Bodhi was here, and a few lingering Rebel's still squatted in the cargo hold. But everyone else — Baze, Chirrut, Cassian, Jyn — were all gone. The Guardians and Rebels to set diversions, her sister and Cassian to steal the plans.

It had felt like years since they'd left, time crawling by as slow and gentle as snowfall. And in that time she had done nothing but wait do the pieces to fall into place.

She supposed that in some ways she should have felt guilty, watching the black smoke spill like black blood into the pale sky from the open hold of the cargo cruiser, but instead she felt a warped sense of pride as the smoke gathered into storm-coloured clouds above Scarif's cerulean blue sea.

But Kit didn't have time to dwell on the success of her comrade's diversions before troopers were spilling out over the tarmac and she had to retreat from back into the hold. "Troopers!" She called, and the five Rebel's left behind fell back into the shadows. Kit listened hard, but all she could make out was the sound of retreating footfalls as the stormtroopers passed by the shuttle without pause. For now, at least, Kit didn't have to fight.

Kit turned and headed up into the cockpit, the sound of her boots slapping metal alerting Bodhi to her entrance. "How's it going out there?" He asked, hunched over the comm system as he switched between channels.

"Looks like they've grounded non combat vessels, but they're ignoring the shuttles," she shrugged, leaning over the pilots shoulder to watch him work. "Other than that it's anyone's guess as to how we're going."

"What's going on is fighting," Bodhi muttered, and Kit grinned.

"That's Pathfinders for you," she said.

"Aren't you a Pathfinder?" Bodhi asked, going off the few details he'd managed to gather about the Rebel pilot.

Kit shrugged, readjusting the rifle over her shoulder. "I used to be. But I couldn't take orders like those guys can, so they moved me into aerial combat. Still, I'm a better shot than half those SpecForce guys."

Suddenly the comm crackled into life. "Pad Twelve! Close it down!"

Bodhi slapped his thighs victoriously. "I've found the main security channel. We can track their movements from here."

The voices were loud and overlapping: the command towers demanding numbers and reports while stormtroopers called for reinforcements. "We have rebels everywhere!" One voice shouted, and Kit saw Bodhi smile properly for what she thought was the first time since she'd met him.

"Well, Rook, are you going to just sit there? Or are you going to help out?" Kit asked, her words more friendly than challenging.

Bodhi's smile twisted into a side smirk, and for a second Kit saw more than a defecting pilot in him, she saw a Rebel. The pilot punched a flashing button and raised the link, shouting into the open mic: "Pad Two! This is Pad Two! We count forty rebel soldiers running west of Pad Two!"

As soon as he'd done it the Rebel muted the link and lent back in his chair, his eyes wild with adrenaline as he turned to face the woman beside him. He pushed the mic towards her, "Tell them you're pinned down by Rebels on Pad Five."

Kit grinned and took the link. "Who needs SpecForces?" She asked, "We can do this by ourselves."

• • •

GUESS WHOS BACK FROM THE DEAD?! It's me, your shitty author! Seriously though I don't have an excuse for not updating. But I promise that it won't be this long again.

But in other news this book only has about two chapters left!! Who's keen for emotional suicide?