Cassian Andor & Jyn Erso - Novelization Benefits - written by Alexander Freed
- A third man - dark-haired, mustached, closer to Jyn's age - stood to one side as if unconcerned with the role he'd been assigned in the rebel's drama. He looked at Jyn with the expression of dispassionate curiosity. (p. 38)
- Cassian moved toward Jyn but feigned a respectful distance - one that would give him space to maneuver if she lunged. (p. 40)
- While the general had tried to intimidate, Cassian’s tone was casual and his eyes were keen. As if these were questions he’d ask over dinner to show he was interested in you as a person. (p. 40)
- Cassian - the intelligence operative, the spy, the casual liar - could be trouble. (p. 44)
- Left alone in the cabin, she took the opportunity to examine Cassian´s duffel and its contents: nothing but gear. Weapons and portable medpacs and signal boosters. No holo-image of a dutiful wife or tattered childhood security blanket. (p. 44)
- Cassian lifted his shoulders in a boyish, what-can-you-do? shrug. (p. 44)
- Jyn watched the humor, the warmth, evaporate in a flash. The expression of the calculating spy emerged. She felt a certain sour satisfaction. (p. 45)
- Cassian stared a moment longer. The look of calculation, too, vanished, and Jyn could no longer read him at all. He returned her shrug and hauled himself into the cockpit. Off to a grand start, Jyn thought, and went to find a bunk. (p. 45)
- The need in her eyes, frightened Cassian. Had the others seen it? Had he imagined it? He wasn´t sure what troubled him more: What he was doing to Jyn Erso, or what she would do to him if she ever learned the truth. (p. 46)
- She could take them both. Her heart was suddenly racing. She smiled coldly. "No, no-" Cassian grasped her arm, tugged her back into the flow of the crowd. "We don´t want any trouble. Sorry." (p. 65)
- If he noticed her discomfort, he didn´t show it. Good for him, she thought. (p. 65)
- Another sound broke the spell instead. "Jyn." Cassian, sharp and low. "Come on." (p. 67)
- She shrugged off Cassian´s guiding hand and trailed him willingly down the street. (p. 68)
- Jyn reacted instinctively, dashing with Cassian into the flimsy shelter of a doorframe and squeezing tight against him. (p. 70)
- Cassian called her name, but it meant nothing. (p. 71)
- She searched the plaza for cover and for Cassian. She spotted him out of the shelter of the door-frame, stupidly, dangerously near the tank, and realized he´d already seen her. He had his own blaster out and fired a cluster of tight shots above her head. She craned her neck around in time to see Cassian´s target: a rebel stationed on another rooftop behind her. An instant later Cassian´s target and his rebel comrades disappeared in a fiery bloom of a grenade. Jyn could only guess one of the rebels had been aiming the explosive her way. Cassian had shot one of Saw´s rebels to save her life. Jyn supposed she should have been anguished, torn at the thought. She wasn´t. She sprinted toward Cassian. Clustering would get them killed, but she didn´t plan on staying in the plaza and she didn´t relish the thought on escaping Jedha on her own. She bowled into Cassian as another grenade impacted the tank. She slammed him to the ground and shielded him as metal shredded the air. Cassian dragged her to her feet and uttered a breathless "Come on!" He didn´t thank her, and Jyn was grateful for it. (p. 71, 72)
- Cassian pivoted around, but the stormtroopers reacted faster, turning their rifles on the man. One might miss; together they´d cut him down in seconds. Jyn called Cassian´s name and barreled forward, pulling her truncheons from her coat. (p. 72)
- Jyn noticed he was sweating despite the cold; despite his matter-of-fact tone. (p. 73)
- Now that sunset was approaching and his undershirt was soaked with sweat, he found himself shivering and watching his breath steam from his lips. If it was this bad for him, he couldn´t imagine how Jyn was still standing. The need in her eyes had been subsumed by an almost feral anger, a survival instinct that guided her with frightening surety through the chaos. But while he didn´t doubt her alertness, she was slowing physically. The bruises she´d sustained brawling with the stormtroopers left her wincing with every other step. Cassian wondered, too, if she´d been concussed when she´d saved his life in the plaza - the grenade had gone off with stunning force, and she´d shielded him from the brunt of the blow. She needed a medical droid. A chance to recuperate. Instead she traveled with Cassian and K-2 through the maze of the Holy Quarter, her head low and her breathing strained. "We´ll find shelter soon," he said. He kept his eyes averted and his tone matter-of-fact. He doubted she would respond well to pity. Even so, she didn´t argue. That struck Cassian as a bad sign. (p. 74, 75)
- Most of all, he listened for Jyn. He listened for her struggles. He listened for her voice. He tried to determine which steady tread on the sand was hers. For all Cassian heard, she might have vanished from the face of Jedha. Was it concern that made him fixate on her? - Jyn was first and foremost a means of finding Saw. She´d already served that purpose, which meant she was now expendable. She dominated his thinking nonetheless. Cassian believed neither pity nor pragmatism explained it. He had sacrificed Tivik without hesitation. Maybe it was the need he´d seen in Jyn, the fire that had carried her through the fighting in the Holy quarter. It seemed obscene to leave that need unanswered, abandoned to the dust. (p. 85, 86)
- Jyn was missing. "Hey!" Cassian called. He rushed to the bars, cried out, "Jyn Erso! Where is she?" No one answered. You´re a fool, Cassian told himself. They won´t talk to you. But they´ll try to spot your weakness. (p. 87)
- The Tognath had left her there after guiding her away from Cassian, her hood off and her hands bound. The question of where Cassian might be now was no more than a distant distraction to Jyn - like the sound of a rat scuttling along rafters. She had other concerns on her mind. (p. 89)
- Again, that distant, distracted thought of Cassian. (p. 93)
- And where was Jyn? (p. 97)
- Cassian crouched at the bars. The ragged pile shifted awkwardly. Shadows crystallized into limbs, hair, a dirt-encrusted face, and a battered uniform with Imperial markings on the arms. The man didn't seem to see Cassian, staring between his knees, huddled as if in fear of the dark and the cold. Even from a few meters distant, he stank of sweat and filth. Is this what Saw does to prisoners? Is this what he's doing to Jyn? (p. 98)
- Five minutes. It wasn't nearly fast enough, and far too fast for what he wanted. Jyn was still missing, in the hands of Saw or whatever torturers Saw had sicced on Bodhi Rook. She was extraneous now: Cassian no longer needed Saw, and Bodhi could lead the rebels to Galen Erso on his own. Worse than extraneous, he told himself. She'll try to stop what comes next. All Cassian had to do was forget the need in her eyes. Leave her behind, as he'd left behind Tivik on the Ring of Kafrene. As he'd left behind men on Eiloroseint and Chemvau...
"Where are you going?" Chirrut shouted.
Cassian was already halfway to the cavern exit. "I've got to find Jyn," he called. (p. 113)
- "Where's Jyn Erso?" he asked. "Where was she taken?" (p. 114)
- Cassian turned and sprinted away. Saw had left the pilot behind. Maybe - if Cassian was lucky - he was cruel enough to leave Jyn, too. (p. 114)
- He called Jyn's name, pushed forward through the curtains, and found what he was looking for. (p. 114)
- Saw lifted his head. Bloodshot eyes met Cassian's own. The man squinted in thought, then rasped, as if reading the rage and the question on Cassian's face. "This was not my doing. She wasn't ready for what she saw." Cassian wanted to yell, What does that mean? (p. 115)
- Cassian knelt by Jyn. Her eyes were glassy, unfocused. "We've got to go," he said, soft and stern. She flinched at the sound. Nothing more. Cassian swore to himself. Leave her behind. It would be easier than he'd expected. The need had burned out of her eyes. The feral instinct to survive had been buried kilometers deep. He'd be leaving behind an empty shell... "I know where your father is," he said. Jyn blinked. Her eyes flickered toward Cassian. (p. 115)
- Jyn's face seemed to flash with anger. But her fingers unclenched form saw, and Cassian grabbed her other arm, tugging her forward the doorway. "Come on," he said, and she stumbled one step, then two. (p. 115)
- Jyn took another step, but her gaze remained on the old rebel. "There´s no time," Cassian snapped. He pulled at her again and now she was moving, unsteady yet swift, making for the corridor at Cassian's side. (p. 116)
- "Move!" a man called. He rushed past, pulling a woman by the hand. (p. 119)
- "Set course for Eadu." Jyn repeated Cassian's phrase in her head, tried to hear it over her father's words in the dark of the cave. "Eadu?" she asked. Her voice sounded thick and hoarse. "Sodden lump of a world, according to the files," Cassian said. He looked at her with a hint of surprise, swiftly hidden. (p. 127)
- The tension in Cassian's expression dissipated as he donned his spy's face, his innocently cerebral face. Jyn caught it and knew exactly what it meant. (p. 129)
- "You don't believe me," Jyn said. Cassian almost laughed. "I'm not the one you've got to convince. I'm not the one who can authorize a strike against a Death Star because it might have a weakness." (p. 129)
- She spoke with conviction she did not feel. Cassian nodded - but he wore his spy's face, and Jyn couldn't read him at all. (p. 131)
- Cassian Andor had made an error. Like a hairline fracture in a blaster barrel, it was nearly invisible on cursory inspection. When its repercussions manifested, however, they would do so with devastating effect - Cassian would very likely die, though that wasn't what bothered him most. He knew now that he should left Jyn Erso on Jedha. Better yet, he should never have taken her off Yavin 4.
"You're showing indications of stress," K-2 declared. He sat beside Cassian in the cockpit, monitoring the instruments. "You should be careful - you're a much worse pilot when you're stressed."
Cassian offered a wan smile. "How can you tell?"
"You overcorrect with the throttle control."
Not what I meant, he thought, but he didn't clarify the question.(p. 136)
- K-2, Cassian knew, would gladly subdue Jyn Erso and lock her somewhere safe. If the Guardians of the Whills hadn't been aboard, Cassian might have tempted to try. (p. 137)
- Her fire would burn them all. (p. 137)
- Her terrible need had returned. It couldn't end in anything but disaster, not matter how prettily she dressed it in the clothes of the Rebellion. And if Cassian denied her what she wanted? If he assassinated Galen Erso? She would surely be twice as dangerous.(p. 137, 138)
- He pictured himself picking his way through the canyons, hunted by both stormtroopers and Jyn. He was in a sour mood when he walked back into the cabin. He looked at the faces before him - the zealots, the defector, the madwoman and K-2 - and felt a new rush of ire. (p. 140)
- And Jyn? Jyn seemed pale and gaunt compared to the woman he'd met on Yavin. Even her momentary zeal after leaving Jedha was gone, revealed as a pretense to drag them into madness. She watched him somberly, sadly, like she was sure he would disappoint her. She was probably right about that. (p. 141)
- Cassian sought a resemblance to Jyn and found it in the man's eyes, deep-set and staring. (p. 150)
- Cassian would need a story for Jyn. He knew that. She wouldn't believe him no matter what he told her, but if he offered her something plausible and Bodhi backed the portions of his tale that were true, she might not act rashly. She'd suspect Cassian in the back of her mind, and he'd need to watch himself as long as they were together; but the uncertainty might suffice to drag her down. Without her father and without a target, her obsession and need would drain out of her like pus. If they made it off Eadu, if she survived to return to Yavin, he would be done with her then. Even with her fire gone cold, she'd be better off than she was in prison. - Destroying Jyn - that's what it would be, you can admit that much - was his best option. If she did realize what he'd done, she'd turn that feral need against him. She'd want him dead, probably sway the Guardians of the Whills and Bodhi against him as well. - Maybe that wouldn't be such a terrible way to go. He'd assassinated better man than Galen - an Imperial collaborator, the man who'd built a planet killer, remorse be damned. And if Jyn came after Cassian, he'd die for his crimes. There were worse deaths. (p. 153)
- He looked at Galen Erso through the scope and saw his daughter's eyes. With a hoarse and ragged cry, he swept the rifle away from the rocks and set it in the mud at his side. (p. 154)
- What he found, to his shock, was Jyn - hoisting herself over the edge of the platform and throwing a stormtrooper to his doom. What was she doing there? (p. 157)
- "No," he spat. "No, no, no, - tell them to hold up! Jyn's on that platform!" (p. 157)
- Cassian looked at the platform, at the shadowy figure of Jyn, and thought to himself: I've killed us all. (p. 158)
- The platform was burning. There was nothing Cassian could see besides oily smoke, low-burning flames, and silhouettes crawling through the pandemonium. He had no target, no means to intervene. "Jyn," he whispered. "No." (p. 163)
- He knew he was running toward catastrophe. The odds of him reaching Jyn - if she'd survived - were slim. The Imperials would shoot at him on sight, and there was no time for stealth. The rebel squadron would continue attacking until it was driven off or until the facility was buried in rubble. But he was free of his mission now, and if he failed to save Jyn ... He had to save her. (p. 163)
- If he found Jyn, where would they go? They were still trapped on Eadu. But it didn't matter; didn't change the immediacy of his needs. (p. 164)
- Cassian emerged from the smoke behind him and was by her side in an instant, hands on her arms and trying to coax her upright, tug her away from Galen. "Jyn, we've got to go. Come on."
She didn't understand where he'd come from, in the same way she didn't understand the attack by the X-wings. Understanding wouldn't make any difference. "I can't leave him," she said.
"Listen to me." Firm, but not harsh, he uncurled her fingers from her father's body. Galen's warmth slipped away, replaced by the chill of the rain. "He's gone," Cassian said. "He's gone. There's nothing you can do. Come on."
Her father dropped to the metal. "Help me," Jyn said, and she was surprised to hear the force in her voice.
"Come on," Cassian pressed. He hoisted Jyn to her feet. The pain raced through her body and seemed to activate her nerves. The smoke hurt to breathe. Footsteps were racing toward them. The platform itself was groaning. She had to leave or die with her father.
"Move," Cassian urged. She took his hand and let him show her the way out. (p. 168)
- He looked to Baze and Chirrut and saw that both wore bleak expressions. They were expecting Galen Erso. Bodhi almost certainly had been, too. Cassian didn't look at Jyn at all. (p. 171)
- Cassian, who had betrayed her. When had she figured it out? During the race from the landing platform? When the first X-wings had streaked across the sky? It didn't matter. Over the years she'd developed a sense for betrayal. She'd mostly grown numb to it, accepted it as the price of living free among killers and thieves. Why had she expected more from the Rebellion? "You lied to me," she said to Cassian. He flinched like a man struck by a blow he'd known was coming. (p. 182)
- Jyn stared into the face of her betrayer. You lied to me, she wanted to say again. You went up there to kill my father. But the cold was deep in her bones now, biting at the marrow. "You can't talk your way around this," she said. "I don't have to," Cassian snarled. She didn't look away. Nor did Cassian. They stood locked together until at last the cold and the dark became too much for Jyn to bear; until she had no words to hurl, no weapon left to stab with, and all that remained was for her to drive a fist against his ribs, dig her knee into his chest, and watch him fall. But that wouldn't make him beg forgiveness for killing her father. It wouldn't make her feel any less petty. She turned around. (p. 184, 185)
- But she wasn't Cassian, and she didn't want to be. Even the fantasy of hurting the people behind her father's death couldn't sustain her; after the initial rush, the notion left her exhausted and empty. (p. 193)
- She let the bulk of an Ithorian militia commander wedge her into a corner and lost sight of Cassian. (p. 199)
- "But I do," Cassian said. "I believe you." Her eyes flickered from Cassian to the soldiers. They were armed, but their postures were relaxed. Their weapons were down. A few even looked amused. "We'd look to volunteer," Cassian said. She didn't trust him. She didn't trust anybody the galaxy could throw at her. "Why?" He smiled, and it died on his face. (p. 208, 209)
- Don't do this, she wanted to say. I can't give you absolution. (p. 209)
- "I can't-" she started. I can't give you a cause. But she stepped back unsteadily and saw the ferocity, the need in Cassian's eyes mirrored in each of the soldiers. Whatever they'd seized on, it was no longer hers to give. She could no more refuse them than Cassian could have refused her after Jedha. (p. 209)
- Only K-2 and Cassian remained. The droid looked down on her. "Jyn," he said. "I'll be there for you. Cassian said I had to." She held back a laugh and looked at Cassian. The man who'd betrayed her. The man who'd admitted his guilt and decided to fight for her. He saw her staring and looked back at her quizzically. It wasn't how betrayals were supposed to go. And she remembered that while Cassian-and Bodhi and the Guardians-had seen her at her worst, she had seen them broken, too. Bodhi, who had been tortured; the Guardians, who had lost their home; and Cassian, who had betrayed himself as easily as he had Jyn. They all had their shame. (p. 210)
- "I'm not used to people sticking around when things go bad," she said, by way of explanation. She didn't know if Cassian really understood, but he said, "Welcome home," and she knew she was. (p. 210)
- Jyn flinched as she heard a sound from the ladder into the cockpit. She glanced over to see Cassian, who seemed to sense the mood and paused in his climb. She knew enough about what the spy had been like before the Death Star. She wasn't sure if she'd forgiven him for it, or simply decided to abandon it like a used-up blaster pack. (p. 217)
- Jyn dropped the crystal and squeezed her hand in a fist, almost shouting in triumph. She spun and was startled to see Cassian standing close to her. On instinct, riding the joy of the moment, she grabbed his arm and squeezed. He looked at her with a wry, curious smile. She dropped her hand and brushed past him. "I'll tell the others," she said. The cave was getting brighter all the time. (p. 217)
- Jyn was changing. It was evident in her fluid movements and her lucid stare. She no longer hunched her shoulders, no longer maintained the compact posture of a woman ready to absorb a hit before she hit back. She'd shed none of her intensity, but it came with what Cassian could only interpret as a confidence bordering on invincibility. She'd always struck him as a person unafraid to die. Now she seemed like someone who couldn't. He should have been terrified of following her into battle. He no longer understood her, could no longer locate her old need for answers, her desperate grasps at meaning. Yet he'd faced down her loathing during the return from Eadu, walked a razor-fine edge before the briefing on Yavin, uncertain what would happen after. (p. 217, 218)
- Jyn was changing. And through her, Cassian would do what was required of him. They all would. Careful. You're starting to sound as zealous as Chirrut. (p. 218)
- A short while later Cassian clambered down the cockpit ladder. "We're landing," he murmured to her, and then called to the group, "We're coming in!" (p. 221)
- "The Death Star plans are down there. Cassian, Kay-Tu, and I will find them. We'll find a way to find them." (p. 222)
- So Jyn had secreted herself in the cockpit, squeezed in tight between Cassian's shoulder (smelling of blaster oil and Eadu's dirt) and the main console. (p. 223)
- She almost winced when she looked at Cassian, wearing an officer's suit and cap like they were perfectly tailored. Even the code cylinder in his pocket was at a regulation angle. "You've done this before," she murmured, and he ignored her. (p. 224)
- Cassian waited for her at the ramp. Together, in the garb of the enemy, they stepped out onto Scarif. (p. 224)
- She wasn't sure how well she managed the act; twice she had to slow her pace to allow Cassian, her "superior officer," to take the lead. (p. 225)
- "What is it?" Cassian asked. His voice was low, and sun and shadows danced across his features as the car raced over the water. Jyn waved a hand dismissively, but he only asked again more sternly: "What is it?" She twisted and peered through the window. The Citadel Tower was growing larger, dark against the shining sky. "Just - what I told them all back there. About what Saw Gerrera said?"
"What about it?" Cassian asked. She tugged awkwardly at one glove's fingers. "We never fought like this with him. I never did. With Saw, missions were usually about hitting the Empire hard - hitting back for revenge, slowly bleeding them to death."
"And what we're doing now is different." Cassian was being careful, showing nothing of his thoughts.
"Yes," Jyn said. "If we don't win this, people out there -" She waved at the unseen stars. "-don't just ignore it. We have to get those plans. I'm not sure how to fight to accomplish something." All of this was true. None of it was what troubled Jyn most. None of it was what she wanted to hide from herself, now that she'd seen the truth.
"You're going to do fine," Cassian said. And he was trying, speaking with a gentleness and compassion Jyn had barely seen echoes of, but it wasn't the answer she needed. She would fight to find the plans. She would trust Cassian and Chirrut and Baze and Bodhi and Melshi and all the others to push her down the course she needed to go. But if the mission began to go wrong, what then? If she lost them in the chaos... She'd fought all her life, But even in Saw's cadre, she'd fought - more than anything, more than for vengeance or ferocity - for her own survival. If she fell back on old instincts, what then? She could risk herself for a person. Wrestle an innocent girl out of the crossfire. But if she found herself alone, she didn't know if she could risk herself for the cause.
"We're slowing down," Cassian said.
Just focus, Jyn. (p. 225, 226)
- "Guess our distraction's working," Cassian murmured. Jyn forced herself to look approving. "It was a good plan." (p. 248)
- And even then she hadn't needed those people the way she needed Bodhi and the Guardians and Cassian: to keep her on-task, to keep her from just surviving. (p. 248)
- Cassian grunted at Jyn. She dropped the lieutenant's legs and Cassian rolled the man over, slapping his hand against the scanner in the vault door. For several seconds, nothing happened; then a short, low buzz indicated rejection of the scan. Jyn swore to herself and felt her skin prickle with heat. "It's not working," Cassian called. K-2's voice came echoing through the tunnel: "Right hand."
"You're a terrible spy," Jyn hissed. She was surprised by her own intensity, the easy jibe laced with frustration. Cassian ignored her and rearranged the body. (p. 249, 250)
- They've closed the shield gate? "We're trapped?" She looked at Cassian. His expression was grim, his mouth tight. It was answer enough for her. (p. 260)
- Jyn leaned in close enough to smell the cleaning chemicals on his Imperial uniform. "Last we saw those people, they didn't want to be here at all. I'm not giving them an excuse to leave, and if they've got a way to get us out I'd like to know." Cassian held his ground staring down at her until his lips finally twitched into something like a smile. His eyes remained hard and troubled. Jyn wasn't sure if he'd gotten worse at hiding things or if she was simply getting to know him too well. She was ready to call him on it, to ask what he knew that she didn't when K-2 interrupted. (p. 260)
- "Good enough?" he asked Jyn. "Good enough," she agreed. (p. 261)
- "Jyn." Cassian stood framed in the entrance of the screening tunnel. "Come on." (p. 261)
- We may not make it back. She'd heard Cassian say the words to Bodhi, but not to her. (p. 282)
- Cassian followed her lead, pulling off his officer's jacket. (p. 282)
- She heard Cassian struggling behind her over the noise of recirculating air. She knew she should have said something more to him: I'm sorry about Kay-Tu, or we might still get off Scarif, or We're going to finish this. But she'd never been much good at commiserations or encouragement, and she'd spent so many words - on the Alliance councilors, on the rebel soldiers - in the past days. She didn't have the strength to spare for him; just the drive to haul herself up one row of cartridges at a time, drag herself away from the darkness and toward the hope of light. (p. 283)
- The sounds of Cassian's climb were receding below, but she couldn't wait for him. (p. 283)
- Then her boot slipped and she scrambled, one-handed, to regain her holds. "Careful!" Cassian shouted from below, and she was grinning fiercely as she panted. "You okay?" he called. She didn't answer. She was already climbing again. (p. 283, 284)
- Fury mixed with alarm in Cassian's voice as he cried her name. (p. 284)
- She caught a glimpse of Cassian attempting to do the same; but he was slower, and he'd drawn his pistol, firing wildly at the doorway. (p. 284, 285)
- The Imperials targeted only Cassian now. He swung desperately toward cover as sparks spilled off metal all around him. Jyn started to call to him, but he cried out louder, "Keep going! Keep going!" She reached a trembling hand toward her pistol. She could die. So could they. She knew she had to climb. The decision was taken from her. The second stormtrooper took a hit as a bolt flashed toward Cassian. Trooper and spy fell together; Jyn couldn't tell whether Cassian had been struck or if he'd simply lost his grip, but he plunged out of view without a scream or a word. She nearly loosed her clutching fingers, nearly followed him into the abyss, but a swell of vertigo shocked her out of her horror and impelled her to cling more tightly to the stack. Cassian was dead, like so many others. So many taken by the man in white. She had to escape. Climb! (p. 285)
- Cassian was dead - along with how many others, Jyn didn't know. (p. 297)
- Cassian was dead. K-2SO was gone. Bodhi and Chirrut and Baze might have been alive, but it was hard to imagine anyone surviving the war zone she saw below the tower. (p. 303)
- He had ruined her father and had killed her mother and killed Cassian. (p. 305)
- Behind the man in white, stepping out of the smoke, came a bloody and limping Cassian Andor. He looked like a man who'd fallen twelve stories and clawed his way back to the top. He looked as beautiful as anyone Jyn had ever known, but she couldn't spare a moment to even shout his name. (p. 307)
- She wanted to shout, but she lacked the strength. She wanted to laugh at the heavens, at the fleet and the Death Star, but she lacked the strength for that, too. Instead she turned to Cassian, who still waited in the smoke. She stumbled to him, smiling like a child, and did not speak. (p. 307)
- K-2SO hadn't been there for Cassian at the top of the Citadel Communication tower. But Jyn had turned to him from the control panel looking like the last survivor of a war, and she'd smiled in a way he'd never seen before. It hadn't been a smile predicated on anticipation or courage, or one touched by sadness or doubt; just a smile so ordinary it seemed to change Jyn from a hero out of myth into a woman he might have known and understood. He hadn't known her, didn't know her, of course. There wasn't the time.
She'd half stumbled to his side and gingerly wrapped an arm around him, led him toward the maintenance turbolift. He'd tried not to show the extent of his pain (standing still was bad; moving was worse) but had given up after a moment or two, leaning heavily on her. Somehow she'd carried his weight. (p. 311, 312)
- Jyn couldn't give him what he'd come for. That was the crux of it, really. Because he'd given her what she needed, and he'd done the mission right, and he found that was enough. She believed someone was out there. Maybe it was even true. He did want it to be true. With all his heart, he did. Her faith carried him with her. He didn't say any of it. He didn't want to disturb the silence as they rested against each other, hurting and relaxed, listening to the hum of the machinery and the distant billowing of fires. He stowed thoughts of old missions and thoughts of the future away; decided to focus on what he could see and hear and smell for the last moments of his life on Scarif. When Cassian Andor died, he would be ready, and he would be content. (p. 312, 313)
- Every step was an effort, and Cassian's grip was growing weaker. His strides faltered. She kept propping him up. But he was warm, and his breathing was regular, and it felt good to have life close to her. It wasn't at all like cradling Galen, who'd seemed apt to wash away in the rain as he died. (p. 313)
- They passed the body of a rebel soldier along the tree line. Jyn positioned herself in Cassian's way so he wouldn't have to see. (p. 313)
- Instead she looked to Cassian. "I'm glad you came," she said. When the words finally touched him, he gently smiled and took her hand. She entwined her fingers with his so that they didn't drop away. (p. 314)
- Somehow she found herself closer to Cassian than before. Her breathing matched his, or his matched hers, deep and steady. (p. 314)
- "Your father would be proud of you," Cassian said, so soft Jyn barely heard. She thought it was true, even though it wasn't why she'd come to Scarif - not entirely, not really. It was good to hear aloud, from the lips of someone else. The rumbling overwhelmed all other sound. Jyn tightened her grip on Cassian, and he found the strength to hold her. The world grew brighter, emerald at first and then a clean, purifying light. (p. 314)
- Soon all those things, too, burned away, and Jyn Erso - finally at peace - became one with the Force. (p. 314)