War Child--Rogue One

XXXI

I've avoided Tinred for the last seven months, especially after that encounter over my mother. I do not want to relive that. 

I'm seventeen now, and officially a Sergeant in the Rebellion.

Sergeant Cassian Andor.  Sniper.

My wage has increased from twenty-seven credits per week to thirty, which adds up to a lot after a few weeks. It makes me wonder where the Rebellion is getting all of this money. I guess having a lot of senators and the like supporting us pays off. Literally.

There's a system in the Rebellion for missions. It involves teaming one sniper, one pilot, and one tactician or infantryman together.

I already know that Linami and I will be together, and I can fly an X-Wing and a freighter, so if we get into a tricky spot I can help her. Not that she needs any help in the first place.

I'm hoping that Gaspard will be our infantryman.

But I'm sorely disappointed when I see the lists displayed on the hologram table.

Mission team #510
Sergeant Cassian Andor
Sergeant Linami Friant
Private Perl Tinred

I wonder briefly if I can ask to change members of the team. But then I'm handed a holopad and directed to proceed to breakfast.

I sit with Gaspard and Linami, who has recently turned nineteen, like always, and Tinred decides that he can sit with us, just because he's on Linami and my team.

They both greet him cheerfully. They don't understand.

I thought Linami might, but she doesn't.

Nobody does.

He was honored for getting everyone out of there, but they neglected the fact that he couldn't save Mother. And that he reawakened the grief I had experienced.

I haven't pulled that blanket out of the cupboard yet. I avoid it entirely. I pile things on top of each other just to not have to open the cupboard. I may never open it.

"Cass." It's Linami, she's the only person I let call me that. She snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Sorry. What were you saying?" I shake my head to clear it. As if that will help.

"Perl was wondering what our first mission might be," she says with a glance at Tinred.

I shrug. "You'd know as well as I do."

"I hope we're taking out a base," he says with zeal.

"I doubt that. Three people won't be able to take down a base on our own." I can't explain it, but it feels good to shoot him down like that. Honestly, he shouldn't be this sensitive. He's thirty-eight, for the Whill's sake. "Do you know what the holopads are for?" I ask Linami.

"Yeah. You tap it in the morning and it will show wether or not you have a mission for the day. They'll page us over the intercom if they need us." She stuffs a piece of bread in her mouth, chews, and swallows. "Have you seen our ship?"

I shake my head.

"Oh, she's beautiful," she gushes. "Corellian Freighter, fitted out with guns and the like. A bit big for three, but beautiful nonetheless. A friend of mine has one almost identical, but there's a darker stripe all around the side on ours. I'm thinking about calling her the Corellian Ghost."