Chapter 10: Fade Away

Four years. Four years for one deep cover assignment within Imperial territory, with very occasional contact with the Alliance, and even then, just information drops. The thought of what that mission would entail boggled his mind: the creation of an entirely new identity, the knowledge that for almost four straight years, Cassian Andor could not exist except within the confines of his mind. Then there was the material cost of it all. One year of Junior Academy on Lothal and three years of learning at the Senior Imperial Academy on Carida would all involve uniforms, room and board, learning materials, and no small amount of bribery. He didn't even want to think about how Draven and Fulcrum convinced the council that a seventeen year old boy (not that he really was a boy, and hadn't been one since he was eleven) was capable of pulling off a deception of this scale.

"You called for me sirs?" He had asked as he walked into the now very familiar briefing room on the base. Somehow, it never mattered what base it happened to be on, every time he had a meeting with Draven and Fulcrum together, it was always in the briefing room. He nodded to Draven and Fulcrum, but kept an eye on the woman in white that sat between the two of them, and managed to not let his jaw drop to the floor once he realized who she was.

"Actually, I did. Sit, please. " Senator Mothma's voice was quiet, but still commanding.

"Ma'am," Cassian acknowledged as he sat down across from the three. She regarded him through clear blue eyes. "Your superiors went through a great deal of trouble to get approval for this mission from the Council. It's a plan that is brilliant in its simplicity and no one can deny the fact that we need the intelligence that this will provide."

Cassian could imagine the arguments that rippled through that meeting. He hadn't really had to go in front of the Council before—not officially anyways. Sometimes he sat in on the meetings as Draven's aide. For some reason, the man valued his opinion. The Council probably divided itself the way it always did: action vs. inaction. No need to guess which side Mothma was on. What she said next shocked the kriff out of him.

"Fulcrum has spoken quite highly of your abilities, and General Draven has also expressed his confidence in your abilities to the Council. I'm quite interested in seeing just who you are, Commander Andor—a fair thing to ask given that I am the one who will be funding your venture." Somehow, he really wasn't sure how, except that he didn't want to disappoint Draven, he kept the surprise off of his face. He hadn't even tried to speculate about the money trail, though he would have to before the assignment began—it was always best to know where money came from and where it went to minimize any potential weak points in a mission. At least he knew that it would be coming from an unimpeachable source.

"I am just a soldier, ma'am," he answered softly. He was no better and no worse than most who fought for freedom. The only difference really was that he started intelligence work much younger than most.

"There's more than that, I think," the Senator steepled her hands in front of her as she regarded him once more. "Your file says that you came to us quite young, with your mother, and she was lost some years ago. Tell me, why did you stay?" Cassian didn't need to look back at Draven and Fulcrum's impassive faces to know that he was on his own with this interrogation, gentle as it was. There was a pregnant pause as he tried to answer.

"I—I'm not sure," his brow furrowed. "I think because the people here are the only family I have left." He didn't dare look at Draven or Fulcrum, though he heard Draven's sharp intake of breath. Unbidden, images came to the front of his mind: throwing rocks at clone troopers in white because Papa and Mama said that they were bad people during whispered conversations in the kitchen while they thought he was sleeping. Papa falling after clone troopers opened fire at the protest on Carida, while he watched and screamed from inside the office building he had snuck into. Mama telling him goodbye on the farm on a dewy morning and never coming back. Draven, holding onto his shoulder as he cried at the kitchen table. Draven looking at him with something like pride in his eyes when he passed his tests in the field. Fulcrum looking at him with sad eyes every time she gave him another mission. Stardust watching the troopers in black kill her mother; how hard she had cried on the beach after. Something of those memories must have shown in his eyes. The Senator's face softened a little, and she gave a small, sad, smile.

Cassian shook himself back to the present. Right now, he had to focus on creating an imperial identity that wouldn't drive him insane with disgust. He scrolled through a list of common Mid and Outer Rim surnames on his datapad. The character of the boy he was supposed to become came through to him after hours of creating. By the end of it, he slipped into Joreth Sward—a moderately well off son of a merchant from the Elochar Sector, who held to notions of honor and order within the Empire. At least Sward wasn't someone who had to be despicable yet. Although after reading up on the training curriculum used by the junior and senior academies provided by one of Draven's sources, he was relatively sure that Willix would be rather despicable by necessity at the end of it. It was a heavy realization that he would have to become what he hated most, and it filled him with dread. Even posing as a boy prostitute servicing perverted Imperial officers was almost better. The prostitute was just trying to survive whatever way he could, while the cadet actually bought into the propaganda.

The chrono read 0300. He groaned and rubbed his fingers into his eyes. There was no need to run himself ragged right now; he had the next few days off to refine his back story. And then only a month before heading off to his "home world" with the appropriately and spliced records and settled in with his newfound family in a thoroughly middling (but up and coming) area of the planet before going to the academy. His mind wandered back to that café of his first mission as he methodically stacked things back onto his desk and crawled into his bed. The bitter scent of fresh ground and brewed caf would linger in his nose as he sipped his hot drink and he would be balancing a plate of a savory breakfast in his other hand. He would be walking towards a table full of other younger people, all of whom were smiling and making room for him. There would be the polite inane morning chatter before the conversation delved into the latest assignment from the robotics course and the lively debate about the best way to build to improve on a program. He would laugh with abandon and genuine amusement. But he would never have those things. The thought was as bitter as the caf in his daydream. He felt the rush of tears coming up, and in the privacy of his room, he let them fall.

Jyn opened her eyes and found herself in the meadow. She was relieved to be out somewhere green and fresh rather than in the stale recirculated air of Arhul's bunker. Her neck hurt and she stretched her legs before taking off on a short run while she waited for Star. She found that she liked learning how to splice information—it was somewhat like creating new puzzle pieces to fit into an existing picture. Learning how to fight with Saw was exciting and most certainly not boring, but there was something about coding and splicing that appealed to her. It was quiet and unobtrusive work, something that she had a knack for that most Partisans were too impatient to learn. Not that she didn't see fighting with the Commenor Underground, it just wasn't as flashy as she was used to. Useful as learning to splice was though, Jyn wanted to learn everything all at once so she could get back to Saw. She spotted Star sitting cross-legged in the sand, staring into the water and jogged over to him.

"You know, for someone who hates being cold, you have a thing for being near cold water," she greeted him as she dropped down next to him. He didn't say anything until she tapped him on the shoulder and dropped down next to him with a huff.

"Hmmm? Oh," he shook himself. Jyn sighed and dropped her head on his shoulder. She didn't mean anything by it—she sometimes did it with Saw when she knew they were alone and when he just needed someone there.

"What is it?" She thought he wasn't going to answer when words tumbled from his mouth, so quickly that she almost didn't catch any of it.

"The next mission they're sending me on. I'll be in so deep that I won't even be myself for a long time." His arm snaked around her shoulders, and she ignored the sudden fluttering inside of her.

"You're always yourself here," she pointed out, looking up at him. He cocked his head, considering it. It was true enough. Star and Stardust were facets of their secret selves that no one else knew. There was no room for lies in the meadow and beach.

"Yes, but," he drawled out taking a deep breath. "I won't have my name while I'm there. I'll have to slowly turn into something I hate and I can't even hold on to my name to tell myself that I'm not really that person." She remembered—his father's name, the surname he shared with his mother and the rest of his lost family.

"I know," she said. And Jyn knew. She hadn't been Jyn Erso since she was eight years old. With Saw, she was Jyn Gerrera, and much as she loved him, Jyn Gerrera wasn't really who she was at the core. And her mother and father had been Ersos. Stardust was a made up name that Papa had given her and that Star used. But deep in her mind, she was Jyn Erso, and every day, she struggled to remember that name and the parents of her early childhood. Briefly, she wondered how it would be to hear "Jyn Erso" tumble from Star's voice—or even just "Jyn"—just for once to have the dream become real. There was a familiar ache welling up inside of her and her breath caught just a little. Star looked at her with sad eyes and his mouth twitched a little to one side.

"You would," he said softly, and held her tighter. "Do you wish—" he paused and looked away from her. "Do you ever wish that this could be real?"

"Isn't it?" Jyn countered, a little hurt that by now, he thought that she wasn't real to him. "You're Star here, and Star is still you, as much as Stardust is still me no matter what other names I get called. You know Stardust, you know me, better than anyone in the galaxy, because everything here is real!"

"And what about when we wake up and everything about the beach and the meadow fades away?" his voice quivered as he turned to look at her, and she knew that he was more afraid of whatever was coming than whatever had already happened. She took his hands into hers and looked down at them. Small ones against his large ones, both scarred and calloused. She wanted to scoff at how utterly childlike they looked against his, because the last thing she wanted to see was how little she was compared to him.

"Help me remember?" he pleaded with her.

"Just come back here," she whispered, looking back into his eyes. "I don't know who you are out there, but I know who you are here, just like you know me."

*Cassian is 17, Jyn is 13 *Takes place immediately after the previous chapter *Chapter song: Rangers by A Fine Frenzy *waves sheepishly* Hi! I'm back! Sort of. I apologize for how long it took for me to post this...it's actually been ready since the end of November! All I can say is that life with two kids under 4 is keeping me very busy, especially during cold and flu and holiday season. I don't know what kind of posting schedule I can honestly stick to, but please be assured that I will still be posting! I LOVE you all and thank you for sticking with this! As always, huge thank you to DancingActress24 for the betawork!