Star Wars: Rebel Rising(85)

And then Jyn had been put on the prison transport ship and taken to Wobani, and the warden had led her to her cell.

And there had been no more chances to escape.

After Zorahda died, Jyn had time to think. Of Akshaya, who believed that the giant Empire would never bother with ants like her. Of her father, who had chosen the Empire because he had known, even that long before, that there was no real choice. Of Blue, who had chosen to fight, who had believed that was the only option.

The only thing Jyn knew for sure was that her mother had believed hope was the most important thing in the universe, and Jyn had none of that left.



“I’m going to escape,” her new cellmate, a Mirialan said. Her smooth, pale yellow skin and the pattern of blackish-blue diamonds across her face stood out in the dim light.

“That’s nice,” Jyn said in a tired voice.

“I’m going to,” Yalla said again, her voice starting to rise from a whisper. “You can help.”

“I just want to sleep.” Jyn rolled over in her cubby.

The Mirialan made a disgusted noise deep in her throat. “How can you just accept this?” she hissed in the dark.

Because, Jyn thought, this is all there is.

“What are you?” Yalla said after enough time had passed that Jyn had dared to hope the conversation was over.

“Human?” Jyn replied in the darkness, not sure of Yalla’s question.

“No, I mean—were you a rebel? Why are you here on Wobani?”

Jyn turned around, her mattress emitting a puff of musty air as her body shifted on it. She could see Yalla’s big azure eyes in the dim light, watching her.

Was Jyn a rebel? Not really. And she’d even worked for the Empire, not against it.

But when it mattered—when Hadder and Akshaya had been threatened, when Jyn found herself on a slave ship—when it mattered, Jyn had chosen her side instinctively. She had chosen to fight. Was that enough to make her a rebel?

Yalla was waiting for her answer.

Jyn turned back to the wall.



Yalla was part of an influx of new prisoners. She knew others at Wobani, a network of people from planets in the Mirial system. A small rebellious militia group. The Empire had separated the group across different prisons, but it hadn’t done a good enough job. Yalla made contact with other prisoners, brief coded exchanges.

And every night, Yalla glared at Jyn with contempt. “You could do so much more,” she hissed, disappointed. “We could overtake the entire prison. There aren’t that many guards. The prison is overcrowded.”

Jyn ignored her.

But she noticed who Yalla spoke to, and how. She noticed the laser pick she pinched from the work detail, and where she hid it under her mattress. She noticed the way Yalla grew more and more jumpy, waiting for some message.

Yalla reminded Jyn of Saw. He had said once that one person could turn the tide of war with nothing more than a pointed stick. She had thought, then, that he had believed in her and her ability to do such marvels. She knew now she wasn’t that kind of person. But Yalla might have been.

And then the moment came. Yalla’s group waited until the hour before work detail started. An alarm blared from the level below and above them, and Yalla jumped up, throwing her mattress aside and pulling out the laser pick and a large impact hammer drill that Jyn had somehow missed earlier.

“It’s time,” Yalla said, a fierceness in her voice that the prison hadn’t been able to stamp out. “You in or out?”

Impossibly, the door to their cell swung open. Jyn stared at it, shocked.

Before she could answer, Yalla thrust the impact hammer drill into Jyn’s open hands. “Come on!” she yelled, racing out of the room, laser pick held high.

She had made it about six meters past the door when blaster fire rang out. Two short bursts, and Jyn watched as Yalla’s body crumpled. The stormtroopers swarmed the hall, a pair racing into Jyn’s open cell.

“She has a weapon!” one stormtrooper said.

Jyn dropped the blasting hammer on the ground, her eyes wide, her hands shooting into the air.



She had a new cellmate after that. She didn’t know what species Nail was, and Nail wasn’t the type to share a friendly conversation with. She was short, tentacles obscuring her mouth, with gelatinous eyes and long fingers. And she hated Jyn for no discernable reason.

Still, Jyn appreciated her new cellmate.

She didn’t make Jyn hope for more.





IMPERIAL DETENTION CENTER & LABOR CAMP LEG-817

LOCATION: Wobani

PRISONER: Liana Hallik, #6295A

CRIMES: Forgery of Imperial Documents, Resisting Arrest, Aggravated Assault, Possession of Unsanctioned Weapon (two counts), Escape from Custody





Hope, Jyn had found, was by far the most dangerous thing in a prison. It made people do stupid things. It made them believe there was life outside the walls.

And furthermore, hope hurt.

It was a physical, painful ache, deep inside her chest. Jyn felt it eating away at her lungs when she coughed from the dust on the rare days she was given farm duty. It gnawed at her belly when the ration cubes didn’t satisfy the hunger. It burned her throat when the stormtroopers didn’t bother refilling their filtration canteens. It stung at her eyes every night before she passed out from exhaustion.