Built on Hope

“Do you ever wonder why you joined the Rebellion? Or do you already know?”

Cassian rolled the question over in his mind. Somewhere behind him plates and plastic trays clattered into a sink. The mess hall would be closing soon. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not even her.

Rhia read his hesitation and the way he diverted his gaze toward the empty plate in front of him. She knew he wasn’t going to answer.

“I’ll tell you now if it’s for yourself you’ll end up very disappointed,” Rhia added. Cassian finally met her eyes and smiled, weak as it was.

“I mean it,” she continued, smiling but keeping her tone serious. “We don’t fight this war for ourselves. We’d never be happy and it would be very unrewarding. We fight for those who come after us; those who not only can’t fight, but for those who don’t yet realize they need to.” She finished, that same tone hanging in the air just like it always did when Rhia dispensed some wisdom.

Cassian considered this for a moment while Rhia drained her glass and stacked her plate on Cassian’s.

“Ugh,” she grimaced after swallowing. “They’re diluting that juice and I guarantee you they don’t think anyone will notice. Might as well get water.” She walked her plates over to the window and came back to the table to find Cassian still deep in thought.

“C’mon, Andor,” she said, putting a hand on his back as though to shake him from his trance. “We’re the last ones here and they’re giving us the stink eye.”

4 Months Prior

“Your mission should be relatively simple, Captain Denley. You and Cassian must pick up the key from Deckard at 0600 at the first rendezvous on Denon. Then, you will both take public transport to the storage facility, where the key will open box 00-74-9213. Collect your parcel, and then you will then take the next transport to second rendezvous where your u-wing will await. Any questions?” Draven repeated the instructions with as much enthusiasm as he always spoke: little to none. Cassian stood alert, hands behind his back, shoulders and hips square. Rhia flipped through the digital pages flashing intel on the holoprojector Draven had given her.

“No, sir,” she said without looking at him. Cassian repeated the same, still at attention and sincere. Rhia looked at him. He was young, probably fresh out of some academy or off some farm on some rock in the middle of nowhere. Another Junior Lieutenant sent over to Intelligence. It had been quite some time before Draven had been given any serious recruits. Cassian could feel her eyes on him, judging him, and it made him uncomfortable.

“Make sure you follow all of Captain Denley’s orders, understood?” Draven asked Cassian, slightly louder than before. At this, Rhia’s attention was back on Draven.

She always liked that part.

“Yeah, and that means everything, don’t forget it!” Rhia joked, clearly more lackadaisical about all of this than the two men. Draven frowned at her.

“Rhia, don’t be incriminating,” he said, still at a monotone, yet commanding, drawl. Rhia went back to the intel, smirking.

“What do you mean, General?” she asked. Cassian could tell she was being funny, even kind of teasing, and he wondered what kind of operation this was. Still, however, Draven maintained his seriousness.

“I mean it, Captain Denley,” Draven said, waiting for her eyes. Rhia closed the holoprojector and coiled her fingers around it tightly. She gave Draven a look that wasn’t quite challenging but wasn’t quite subservient.

“Yes, General,” she said, and while to the untrained ear and eye the phrase bore no disrespect, Draven could hear the two words dripping with disdain. He’d grown long tired of lecturing Rhia about her attitude. She was not only one of his best Captains but now, she was just about his only Captain. One had been promoted, two had died, and one more was kidnapped, all before he’d been able to replace the first. No, if this were a real military operation he’d make sure respect was the only language spoken. But with this rag-tag development, he didn’t have the luxury to care about things like formalities and insubordination. At least not this kind anyway. He could only imagine the laughs he’d get if he complained about something like this to Mon Mothma.

Rhia turned without another word and left the room, leaving Cassian glancing from where she had been standing to Draven and back again.

“Well, go,” Draven quietly barked, waving his hand and clearly having no patience for juniors. He turned away and went back to the control panels behind him. Cassian hurried down the hall after Rhia.

“Gods he’s an ass,” Rhia said once she heard Cassian pacing beside her.

“He’s a general,” Cassian said quietly but solidly. “I think they’re all like that.”

Rhia smirked and shot him a glance. He gave her an affirming smirk back.

“You might be right about that, but I’ve met a few that aren’t too bad. Everything Draven says is just so condescending, you know? I mean I’m literally flipping through the fucking intel, the agendas, the reports, and he’s gotta give me a run down? As if I haven’t been on six thousand missions just like this one. Every word just seems like he’s spelling it out for me.”

“I didn’t get that impression at all, Captain,” Cassian told her calmly. He wasn’t interested in getting involved in the politics of this place so soon (or ever). Rhia seemed like a hot-head and someone he didn’t want to encourage or even agree with fully.

“Really? Hm…” Rhia answered, dropping the subject. She took a sharp turn and Cassian corrected to catch up. He didn’t know where they were headed. “And it’s just Rhia. Not Captain, not Denley, not Captain Denley- just Rhia.”

“Got it… So where are we going… Rhia?” he added, awkwardly.

Rhia stopped in front of a set of doors to the left. She swiped her palm and a small keypad lunged forward. Quickly, without thinking, Rhia entered an unknown number. The doors whooshed open, tossing her hair behind her shoulders and causing Cassian’s to part over his forehead. They were at her quarters.

“I’ve just got to toss a few things in a bag and we can head out,” she finished the sentence behind the walls of her lavatory. Cassian looked around at the small apartment but didn’t move his feet past her threshold. He wasn’t sure if he was invited or not. The clicking hydraulics in the doors told him they’d soon be closing and made his decision for him. He hopped in right before the doors closed behind him.

“Sorry about the mess,” Rhia called amidst some clanging and shuffling in the bathroom. Cassian thought “mess” was an understatement. It barely looked like a sleeping cot could even fit in this room, much less like one was already in it. Jackets, socks, and belts littered the floor. Pieces of (presumably) ships, tools, and blaster parts were scattered haphazardly on every hard surface: dresser, desk, table, countertops, and floor. There was no telling how many holoprojectors hid among the mess; he couldn’t imagine how she knew what each one contained.

“It’s… ok,” Cassian trailed off, not quite hiding his shock at such a state. Just then Rhia came out of the lav, closing her pack. Seeing someone standing in the middle of her catastrophic life of living alone made it her realize just how bad things had gotten.

“Oh yeah… wow… I should clean,” she said, grabbing a belt and one boot off the floor. She packed the belt away and tried her best to be subtle about looking for the boot’s match. Truthfully, she had no idea where it was. Cassian saw her and found the boot first. He reached down to get it, uncovering what looked to be like a very old mess hall tray with some rather fuzzy crackers (?) slowly decaying away. He pretended not to notice.

“I’m sure you’re very busy,” he said, trying to be polite but mostly just wanting to leave. He handed her the boot and she sheepishly took it. She tied the spare shoes to one of the clamps of her pack and surveyed the mess around her.

“Well, I think that’s it,” she said, satisfied. Cassian wasn’t sure how she could tell, but he didn’t ask questions.

They grabbed Cassian’s pack on their way to the hangar. They were to take a rebel transport disguised as a refugee shuttle delivering migrant workers to the gas mines. This was a tactic that seemed very well thought out and secretive on the part of Rebel Intelligence. Actually, Rhia noted, it was more of a way to move multiple rebels to multiple rendezvous planets at once. Once Rhia and Cassian were dropped off, more “migrant workers” had many more destinations past Denon. It killed many birds with one stone.

“If you’re ever wondering why we are doing something the way we are doing it, it’s probably a safe bet that it’s to save credits,” she said, laughing and shaking her head. Cassian never quite knew how to respond to her. From the second Draven introduced her, she seemed to be half interested in the Rebellion. She picked it apart, called out its weaknesses, but not like a hardened general. Instead, she seemed like a critic, as if she had a better idea for everything.

“I’m sure those credits add up,” Cassian said, feeling a little defensive. Of course, saving credits should be a priority. Who was she to critique such an obvious thought?

“Oh, sure, they definitely do,” Rhia added quickly, sensing Cassian’s discomfort. “Coaxium isn’t cheap and if it is then you’ve usually got Empire to worry about. I get why they do it, it’s just… it’s sad. Or,” she added quickly again, seeing Cassian frown, “it makes me sad.”

“You think the Rebellion should be bigger?” Cassian questioned.

“Of course. Who doesn’t?” she asked, confused.

“No, it’s not that,” he corrected. “It’s just that, a rebellion built with spies, like you, for example, can still win. I’m just surprised to hear an intelligence captain who wants to stop sneaking around.” Cassian saw Rhia chuckle once and smile. It was the first time he felt like he was having a real conversation with her.

“I guess you have a point there,” she added with a nod. “Still though… it’s nice to hope.”

“Hope?” Cassian questioned frowning. “I’m even more surprised to hear a captain be hopeful.”

“Really?” she asked, and he recognized that slightly teasing tone she used with Draven earlier. She paused.

“Well, rebellions are built on hope, Cassian.”