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"YOU'RE currently calling yourself Liana Hallik. Is that correct?"
General Draven spoke in a blunt tone, the kind of voice Kit had learned the Rebel General reserved for the moments when he stood to prove a point. Which at the moment, she supposed, was to assert himself as an authoritarian.
Kitra watched the exchange with a sense of dispassionate curiosity, her arms crossed tightly across her chest as Cassian leaned casually against the control panel beside her, watching the General through a veil of dark hair hanging past his eyes.
Jyn only leaned back in her chair and gave Draven a bored, unimpressed glare. Draven took it as his cue to continue. "Possession of unsanctioned weapons, forgery of Imperial documents, aggravated assault, escape from custody, resisting arrest." He lowered the datapad he'd been reciting from and fixed the former-prisoner with a calm, smug glower. "Imagine if the Imperial authorities had found out who you really were, Jyn Erso. That's your given name, is it not?"
Jyn flinched like the name was a curse, and for the first time in years Kitra wondered if Jyn had even heard her own name called aloud since their last encounter.
Draven noticed the sudden spark in her and spoke on. "Jyn Erso? Daughter of Galen Erso. A known Imperial collaborator in weapons development."
Jyn flinched again. Draven had stuck in the knife now, and he was enjoying twisting it, knowing exactly the way to make Jyn squirm. Kitra's own jaw was clenched tight at the mention of her father, Galen Erso. How old was she the last time she'd seen him? Four? She couldn't even remember the colour of her own father's eyes.
But before Draven could continue to taunt Jyn the shadows at the back of the room began to shift, giving way to a white-cloaked figure. The emerging woman was effortlessly regal, her copper hair styled in a fashion that was far too delicate for any soldier. Instinctively, Kit leaned back, thoroughly intimidated. This woman was no warrior, but she sure as hell commanded respect.
