ghost ― rogue one

SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
( MONSTER. )

KITRA had changed. She wasn't the guarded soldier who broke her sister out of jail, and she wasn't the bitter, abandoned child from Jedha. The walls that she hid behind for so long were being picked apart, brick by brick, until the safe haven she'd built was herself falling apart around her. But she wasn't scared. She'd been hiding for too long, and the comfort of darkness was nothing to her. Now she invited the exposure, relishing in the light that poured through the cracks. She'd been running for nineteen years. But she wasn't running anymore.

The churning abyss of azure-tempered starlight gleamed through the viewport and lulled Kit into a slow spiral of thought. She wondered, if only for a fleeting second, what came next. They'd stolen a ship from their own Alliance and flown it into the heart of Imperial space. But as though that alone wasn't enough to get them all killed they also harboured the insane idea that somehow that same ship full of outcasts could bypass an entire Imperial facility to steal the plans to one of the most devastating weapons in the galaxy's long history of war. And even if they did survive, where did they have to go?

"Hey." Kit had to grip the seat to stop herself hurdling out of the chair at the sound of her own sisters voice. She turned abruptly to find Jyn silhouetted against the wall. At some point or another Bodhi had disappeared, leaving Kit to the company of her older sibling alone.

The blue starlight danced in the green of Jyn's eyes like lighting off the sea, her hair an intangible entanglement of silver and black twisted into a frayed bun behind her head. Kit blinked and saw her mothers face, the one that haunted her dreams so clearly, staring back at her from behind her sister's tortured eyes.

She stood up and swallowed, readjusting the frayed cuffs of her jacket as she ducked her eyes to avoid her sibling's patronising stare. "Hey," she said.

Jyn took a slow step forward, her lips quivering as they struggled to hold onto a plethora of unspoken words. Kit felt her sisters warmth radiate through the cold cabin and for a moment she almost swore she heard their hearts beating in sync.

"I keep thinking —" Jyn's voice was unimaginably soft, barely even a whisper above the buzz of electricity that hummed through the walls, "— that I forgot to say goodbye once before, and then I thought you died. And I need you to know now, before we do this, that I won't ever fail you like that again."

Kit caught the corner of her lip in her teeth and felt the scars that lined her mouth, her fingers curling into a fist and then unfurling to tuck themselves into her pockets. There was a part of her that wanted just to nod once, tell her she was glad, and send Jyn away. Maybe a few days ago she would have. It was easier the pretend that she didn't care because maybe, if she told herself it often enough, eventually she might believe it. But before she could manage to incline her head a stranger feeling swelled inside her chest, an overwhelming tidal wave of relief and anger and bitterness that poured through her bloodstream and into her veins, igniting every nerve down to her finger tips.

Instead, she bowed her head, letting the stray ends of her ragged ponytail fall over her eyes to hide the glassy sheen over them. "I used to wonder ... why you left me there to die," she said, her own voice quivering gently. "I've been abandoned so often that I thought it was me, that maybe it was my fault you left."

She tasted salt on her lips and realised that she was crying, her hair clinging to her damp cheeks like stubborn vines. "It's not fair," she said, sounding as broken as she felt, her watery eyes lifting to meet her sisters. Suddenly she was six years old again, wondering for the first time why her father never came home. Wondering why she wasn't good enough for him. She wanted someone to blame, so she chose her father and her sister without ever realising that they didn't ask for tragedy, but they all had to deal with it regardless.

She dragged the heel of her palm over her pink cheeks, smearing salty tears and grime across her face. "It's not fair that you left me alone, and it's not fair that I blamed you for it. I'm tired of blaming people, Jyn."

Jyn's jaw worked as she struggled to find the words Kit wanted to hear, her fingers curling unconsciously around the crystal that hung from her neck. Kit couldn't stand the silence, and suddenly the words were pouring past her lips, too painful to stop and too fast to control.

"You know I can't remember the sound of our mother's voice or the colour of her eyes but I can remember that she used to always fold the sheets back twice when she tucked us in at night, and that she used to always stack the chopping boards in the same order. I can remember that she used to tell me that all she ever wanted was keep us out of the war ... but somehow we ended up here anyway.

"I'm not our mother, Jyn, I tried to be. But I've done terrible things to people. I wanted to make her proud, and instead I made myself a monster. And there's nobody left to blame for that but me." Kit breathed out a note of bitter laughter and tapped her prosthetic leg. She hated feeling this weak in front of Jyn, hated the fact that she couldn't stop the silent tear that trailed down her cheek and skirted the edge of her lip to draw a damp path down to her chin. She hated a lot of things about herself, but she also wouldn't change any of it.

Without thinking Jyn's fingers fumbled for the back of her neck, working free the knot of twine that kept the kyber crystal from falling. Kit watched as the eldest of the pair took the crystal in her palm, its core glowing white in the dark cabin light.

"She would be so proud of you, Kit." Jyn promised, pressing the necklace into Kit's outstretched palm. "She'd want you to have it."

Kit uncurled her fingers to stare at the white-glowing stone, still warm from sitting beneath Jyn's shirt, it's edges smooth from years of weathering. She didn't want it; this hard shard of opaque white stone. It was just another reminder that she couldn't save her mother. But she couldn't find the strength to give it back.

Jyn smiled softly. "You're not a monster, Kit. You're just a survivor."

Kit tucked the stone into her pocket and looked back up at her sibling. The starlight washed Jyn's features with a marbled-white glow, a solemn expression engraved onto her gentle features. There were one thousand ways she could have told her sister she loved her, and more to let her know how glad she was to have her there. But every sentence she tried to conjure, every word that passed her mind, was strangled by the knot that sat at the back of her throat.

Kitra Erso wasn't a talker. So instead she asked: "Do you think we have a chance?"

Jyn's lips slanted upward like that was all she'd wanted to hear Kit say. "I think this is our last chance."

• • •

Just a smol chapter of my babes Jyn and Kit because I'm not ready to send them to Scarif yet oops.

Also, who's enjoying Kit's character development (?) because I DO.