Star Wars: Rebel Rising

Star Wars: Rebel Rising

Beth Revis



For Corwin

I know.





IMPERIAL DETENTION CENTER & LABOR CAMP LEG-817

LOCATION: Wobani

PRISONER: Liana Hallik, #6295A

CRIMES: Forgery of Imperial Documents, Resisting Arrest





The stormtrooper chuckled as Jyn Erso fell to her knees. She raised her shackled wrists. “You can take these off now,” she said. “Where am I going to run?”

She gestured to the long hallway and the dim glow from the illuminators above each cell door.

“It’s more fun this way,” the stormtrooper said, lifting Jyn to her feet by the binders on her wrists. The metal bands cut into her skin and grated against the sensitive bones beneath, but Jyn barely flinched. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“They’re always so…” The warden, a tall thin man dressed in black, waved his hand as if searching for the right word. “They’re always so noble when they first arrive, don’t you think?”

The stormtrooper made a noncommittal noise as he prodded Jyn, forcing her farther down the dark hallway toward her cell.

The warden chuckled at his own joke, then apologized. “I’m sorry, it just amuses me so. I can always spot a fresh one. They stand straighter.” His strides lengthened, and he passed Jyn and the stormtrooper, then turned in front of them, halting their progress. The warden grabbed Jyn’s chin, forcing her to face him, but Jyn jerked away defiantly. He chuckled again. “The fresh ones still have a little fight in them,” he said, wrinkling his nose at the word little .

When Jyn didn’t rise to the bait, his face soured. “This way, prisoner.” He turned on his heel and walked quickly down the hall. Jyn stared ahead, trying to keep her tired feet straight so she wouldn’t stumble again and further prolong the ordeal.

“They picked you up…where?” the warden asked casually.

Jyn didn’t answer.

The warden spun around and slapped her across the face, hard. “I asked you a question, Six-Two-Nine-Five-A.”

“I was captured on a ship in the Five Points system,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Captured…and arrested.” The warden sounded proud of himself, even though he’d had nothing to do with it. “And now you’re here.” He swept his arm out but didn’t move. One of the cells was dark and empty. The stormtrooper nudged Jyn forward, and she stumbled into the tiny room. When she raised her wrists this time, he deactivated the binders. The light on the band blinked from red to green, and Jyn’s wrists fell from the heavy metal with relief.

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy our little operation at L-E-G-Eight-One-Seven,” the warden said. He pronounced the abbreviation of the prison system branch in a rush, turning the letters LEG into elegy . Jyn felt it was an appropriate title. “Welcome to Wobani.” He grinned at the words, well aware of the reputation the planet held.

“Your crimes, though not the worst the Empire has encountered, are not to be tolerated. You have done a disservice to the galaxy, and to repay your debt to society, you will work.” The warden punched in a code on the biometric datapad by Jyn’s door, and the metal bars slid into place, trapping her inside the cell. “You will not like the work,” the warden added, his tone still mild and pleasant. “And you will not like your new home here. But that’s what you get when you commit crimes against the Empire. Welcome to the worst days of your life.”

The warden looked down his nose at Jyn through the bars. He smirked slightly. No doubt he was used to criminals breaking down at this practiced little speech, but Jyn just gaped at him.

The worst days of her life?

The warden could do no more than scowl as Jyn laughed in his face.





JYN ERSO, AGE 8

Jyn Erso hid in the dark.

She was not afraid of the dark. She used to be, yes, but not anymore. She knew this dark. She had been in it for hours.

Ever since she had seen her mother slaughtered.

The cave was cramped, but not as cramped as it was supposed to be. She and Mama and Papa had practiced these drills, and when they had pretended the Empire was coming and it was time to hide, they had hidden together.

Jyn was alone now.

She had a satchel with her, a few possessions she’d crammed into the bag when her mama had told her it was time. Abommy the Gig wasn’t there. She’d left him under her bed, where he’d protected her from the monsters she was old enough to know didn’t exist. She wished she had him now; she wished she could stroke his soft synthetic fur that smelled of Papa’s clove aftershave.

Jyn shook her head. No. A toy wouldn’t bring her comfort now. It was a stupid thing to wish for. She couldn’t be such a baby.

Jyn clutched the necklace her mother had given her moments before she died. She squeezed her eyes shut. She wondered if death hurt. She supposed it must.

It was so dark.

Jyn lit a lantern. The shadows danced along the rocky interior of the cave.

They reminded her of the troopers dressed in black.

“Papa will come,” she told herself, the sound of her voice tinny and fragile in the darkness.

Mama had said, “Trust the Force.” Jyn tried. She tried to believe. To hope.

The hatch above her rattled. Jyn sucked in a scream of fear as the door opened and a man’s face peered down.

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