CHAPTER THREE
( OUR FATHER, OUR RESPONSIBILITY. )

"YOU'RE currently calling yourself Liana Hallik. Is that correct?"

General Draven spoke in a blunt tone, the kind of voice Kit had learned the Rebel General reserved for the moments when he stood to prove a point. Which at the moment, she supposed, was to assert himself as an authoritarian.

Kitra watched the exchange with a sense of dispassionate curiosity, her arms crossed tightly across her chest as Cassian leaned casually against the control panel beside her, watching the General through a veil of dark hair hanging past his eyes.

Jyn only leaned back in her chair and gave Draven a bored, unimpressed glare. Draven took it as his cue to continue. "Possession of unsanctioned weapons, forgery of Imperial documents, aggravated assault, escape from custody, resisting arrest." He lowered the datapad he'd been reciting from and fixed the former-prisoner with a calm, smug glower. "Imagine if the Imperial authorities had found out who you really were, Jyn Erso. That's your given name, is it not?"

Jyn flinched like the name was a curse, and for the first time in years Kitra wondered if Jyn had even heard her own name called aloud since their last encounter.

Draven noticed the sudden spark in her and spoke on. "Jyn Erso? Daughter of Galen Erso. A known Imperial collaborator in weapons development."

Jyn flinched again. Draven had stuck in the knife now, and he was enjoying twisting it, knowing exactly the way to make Jyn squirm. Kitra's own jaw was clenched tight at the mention of her father, Galen Erso. How old was she the last time she'd seen him? Four? She couldn't even remember the colour of her own father's eyes.

But before Draven could continue to taunt Jyn the shadows at the back of the room began to shift, giving way to a white-cloaked figure. The emerging woman was effortlessly regal, her copper hair styled in a fashion that was far too delicate for any soldier. Instinctively, Kit leaned back, thoroughly intimidated. This woman was no warrior, but she sure as hell commanded respect.

"What is this?" Jyn demanded, directing her gaze at the woman.

"It is a chance for you to make a fresh start." The woman replied, her words gentle but her tone cold. "We think you might be able to help us."

"Who are you?" Jyn continued, her tone as equally rigid.

"My name is Mon Mothma." The Senator explained, her gentle blue eyes unwavering under Jyn's icy glare. "I am on the council of the Alliance High Command, and I approved your extraction from Wobani."

Jyn leaned back in her chair, surprised. She paused a second, taking the time to consider her next approach. The whole room was suspended in a tense silence while Jyn thought. "You've got a bounty on your head." She told the Senator eventually.

A soft, amused smile placed itself over Mothma's thin lips. But she ignored the comment and turned instead to direct the attention towards Cassian and I in the corner. "This is Captain Cassian Andor, Rebel Alliance Intelligence. And Kitra, who I'm sure needs no introduction."

Jyn turned her eyes towards Kitra suddenly, their bright green depths filled with such a complex entanglement of emotions Kit couldn't begin to decipher them.

"When was the last time you were in contact with your father?" Cassian asked to clear the awkward silence between the pair, and to save Kitra from having to be the first to break it.

"Fifteen years ago." Jyn answered, her voice gone cold as she swivelled her empty eyes towards Cassian.

"Any idea where he's been all this time?" Cassian continued, taking a daring step forward so that his slim frame was partially obscuring Kit from Jyn's view. But despite the movement he kept his voice casual, the kind of tone you'd use to ask the weather, or someone's favourite colour, with a careful detachment that held no sincere curiosity.

"I like to think he's dead." Jyn answered his question without any show of emotion, a sharp pain echoing in Kitra's chest as Jyn continued. "It makes things easier that way."

"Easier than what?" Kitra's words had left her mouth before she could stop them, capturing the attention of every occupant in the room. But Kit could barely begin to register the fact before she'd stepped out of Cassian's shadow, her heavy heart hammering angrily against her ribcage. "Easier than admitting that he's a tool in an Imperial war machine? That he's a traitor."

Jyn swivelled her cold gaze towards Kit again. But for a second it faltered, and Kit was able to see the crumbling adolescent hidden begin her dark green eyes. And as quick as she'd seen it it was gone again, Jyn's commonly exerted arrogance back in prominent position. "I've never had the luxury of political opinions." She told Kit evenly, every shred of compassion gone from her words.

Kit sank back against Cassian meekly, the fire in her chest dying at the cold look in Jyn's eyes. She should have expected the detachment, she thought she'd accepted it long ago. But the look in Jyn's eyes was as painful as it had been the first time she abandoned her.

Cassian continued in her place, "And when was your last contact with Saw Garrera?"

Jyn frowned, "A long time ago."

"But he'd remember you, though. wouldn't he?" Cassian continued, the last of the warmth spent from his voice. "He might agree to meet you if you came as a friend?"

Jyn's lips parted like she might answer, and then snapped closed again, like the gaping of a land-bound fish.

"We're up against the clock here, girl." Draven reminded her. "So if you've got nothing to talk about we'll just put you back where we found you."

Jyn's floundering expression morphed again into a resolute glare. "I was a child." She told them, her eyes finding their way over to Kit once more. "He saved me— he saved us. And he raised us. But I have no idea where he is. I haven't seen him in years."

Draven and Mothma shared a knowing look, but it was Cassian who spoke next. "That's not our problem. What we need is someone who gets us through the door without being killed."

"What about Kitra?" Jyn demanded, the name sounding foreign on her tongue after so many years of disuse.

Kit curled her finger around the blaster strapped to her side, a mixture of instinct and frustration tightening her grip over the weapon. "He thinks I died, same as you did until a few hours ago." The brunette replied, "And you know as well as I do Saw wouldn't take well to a dead-woman walking through his door asking to see one person who holds potentially damaging information to the Empire. He's an extremist, Jyn. He fights his own war, not ours."

Jyn's eyes glowed with a knowing look, and Kit knew she'd convinced her. They both knew that Saw had always been on the fringes of the Rebellion, and had extremely limited trust in the hierarchy of the Alliance.

The older Erso sister curled he fingernails into her palms, her final question resting like bitter poison on her lips. "And what does this have to do with our father?" She asked.

Kit swallowed deeply and looked to Cassian for support, the taller pilot giving her the nod to continue. "There's an Imperial defector in the Holy City of Jedha. A pilot, being held by Saw." She let the words settle in, knowing that they were barely anything compared to the ones following. "He's claiming that the Empire is building a weapon with enough power to destroy an entire planet."

Before Kit could elaborate a loud snort left her sisters mouth. "That's a terrible lie." Jyn said with disbelief. She turned away from Kit to look at Mon Mothma, like the woman might be able to confirm the younger girl's suspicions.

Mon Mothma only pursed her thin lips. "I believe it's the truth." She said gravely. "I may be wrong, and I pray that I am — but I believe a weapon that murders worlds is the natural culmination of everything the Emperor has done."

Jyn's eyes sparked as if to say you're all crazy, despite the fact that her lips remained clamped shut.

"You're right though." Mothma continued, "If Saw Garrera was all we needed then we would devise an alternate approach."

"It's about the pilot, Jyn." Kit interrupted, her words holding enough intensity to recapture the attention of the room.

Jyn narrowed her eyes darkly, "What about him?"

Kit swallowed deeply, seemingly unsure how to answer best. "The pilot. He was sent by our father." She told her, watching as Jyn's composed expression crumpled in the realisation that their father was the Imperial behind this weapon. That the same man who had once tucked them in and kissed them goodnight was the same one who sent a pilot out into the middle of the desert preaching about a world-destroying weapon of mass destruction. "We need to stop this, Jyn. He's our father, our responsibility."

Jyn rolled her eyes, "You always were the idealist, Kitra."

Kit clamped her jaw closed while Mothma continued where she couldn't, "Captain Andor's mission is to authenticate the pilot's story and then, if possible, find your father. It would appear that Galen is critical to the development of this super-weapon. Given the gravity of the situation and his history with Saw, we were hoping that Saw will help us locate your father and return him to the Senate for testimony."

"And if I do it?" Jyn asked, an urgent mixture of desperation and fear on her features.

Mothma smiled slightly, knowing she had all the pieces exactly where she wanted them. "We'll make sure you go free."

• • •

The dialogue from this chapter was taken from the Rogue One novelisation, since I couldn't find the film script anywhere online. So it's as accurate as I can make it right now.

Again I know this chapter wasn't exciting but it was necessary to the story, plus who doesn't enjoy a little sisterly tension?