Star Wars: Rebel Rising(22)

Jyn frowned and stared back out over the sea. “Taking a break” was code among the regulars on Wrea for “getting drunk while Saw is gone,” and she was never, ever invited.

“Sure.” Maia stood up, brushing the sand off her bottom. She and Staven headed back to the outpost.

Staven paused. “You want in?” he repeated.

“Me?” Jyn’s voice was higher, more childish than she would have liked.

“Yeah,” Staven said with a laugh. “You. Coming?”

Jyn jumped up and followed him and the others back to the outpost. Someone produced a jug of pale blue liquid, but it smelled sour, strong enough to burn the hairs in Jyn’s nose. When Staven poured her a cup of the fermented bantha milk, it was half as full as anyone else’s, but she didn’t complain.

They swapped war stories and dirty jokes, and Jyn sipped the foul liquid, her insides growing warmer and her laugh growing louder. Codo clapped her on the back, shouting, “She’s one of ours!” as Jyn chugged the dregs of alcohol from her glass. “To Jyn!” he cheered, grabbing the jug and refilling his cup. He blinked at her. “Jyn. Um. I forgot your last name.”

A little bell rang in Jyn’s mind, a warning. She and Saw had always been careful, always , never to mention her last name. She was just Jyn.

“To Jyn Gerrera!” Maia cried, tipping her cup back. The rest of the table followed suit.

As she stumbled off to bed that night, Jyn thought, Maybe this isn’t so bad after all.





When Saw returned from his mission, he still had a bit of a limp, but his leg was mostly healed. He took Maia and Codo into one of the private rooms branching off the hallway, and before Jyn had a chance to realize what was happening, Maia and Codo were gone, off on a mission of their own.

“You said I would be going on more missions,” Jyn told him. She couldn’t help noticing how different Wrea felt with Maia and Codo gone, with Saw back. She didn’t want to think about which scenario she preferred.

Saw tilted his head back. “How old are you again?” he asked.

Jyn wanted to lie, to pretend she was older than she was, but she answered truthfully. “Fourteen. Almost fifteen.”

Saw looked up, scanning the group of soldiers scattered around Wrea. “Staven!” he barked.

Staven ran up, his hand twitching as if he wanted to salute Saw but just barely kept himself in check. “Yes, sir?” he said.

“Get me a detonator kit.”

Staven nodded and ran to one of the rooms in the armory. He returned minutes later with a small box. He held it out to Saw, but Saw jerked his head to Jyn. Staven turned, holding the box out for Jyn to take. She picked it up, surprised by the weight. She glanced at Saw, then turned her attention to the box, opening it slowly.

Inside were all the pieces needed for a standard detonator. Two halves of a palm-sized disc, the detonite, the wiring compartment and timer, the remote override.

Saw glanced at the time on his comlink. “You have three minutes,” he said.

Jyn’s heart leapt in her chest. This is a test, she realized, slowly, even as her fingers were extracting the items from the box, putting them together with speed she hadn’t known she had. The rough construction of the detonator was easy enough, but the remote override and the wiring was always tricky. She felt the seconds tick by. She allowed herself one moment to look up. Everyone on the island was silent, watching. Staven stood over her shoulder, watching her work, his eyes narrowed as he examined every move her fingers made. He was the expert in explosives, and she was very aware that he was judging her just as harshly as Saw was.

Once the remote override was done, Jyn focused on the wiring compartment. This was the trickiest part of piecing together a detonator, and she hated it. She always got the wires mixed up. Her fingers shook. She was very, very conscious of everyone watching. Of the time ticking by.

“One minute,” Saw said.

That’s not helping, she wanted to snap, but she kept her mouth shut and her mind focused. She slid the wires into place, snapped the cover over the detonator, and looked up, pride making her chin tilt in triumph.

And then she saw Staven’s face.

He shook his head sadly.

“Show her what she did,” Saw said, disappointment dripping from his voice.

Staven opened the detonator, peeling back the overlay and displaying the wiring compartment for Jyn. Her eyes danced over the myriad wires, seeking her mistake…there. A blue wire where a green wire should have been. The timer would be messed up, measuring in hours instead of minutes.

“If you’d given me some warning, I would have been prepared,” Jyn said. “It’s not fair to just throw this at me last minute.”

Saw raised an eyebrow.

Too late, Jyn realized her mistake. In a mission, she would have no time to prepare. In a mission, she would be operating under more stressful conditions than Saw’s timer and Staven’s watchful eye.

“Your mistake could have cost the lives of everyone else on your mission,” Staven said.

Saw said nothing. The disappointment was evident on his face. Jyn blinked away tears as he turned silently and walked away.



Someone knocked on Jyn’s bedroom door.

She wasn’t going to open it. Jyn knew it wasn’t Saw; she could hear him talking and laughing down the hall. But the knock came again and then a third time, more insistent, so she got up and opened the door.