If Ulaf did not die, what do you think would happen to him?
Thank you.
Hi Anon and thanks for the Ask!
I completed a full series rewatch a few weeks ago and Kino’s arc hit harder than ever. He’s a great character in himself, but also for what he represents about the rebellion and Cassian’s “education” and you can see those three episodes as a kind of microcosm of Cassian’s story. He hates the Empire (and presumably did something against it to end up sentenced in the first place, pre-PORD ) but thinks that compliance with the system is the best way of surviving. He then has a crisis of faith, thanks to having his eyes opened to the truth of what’s really going on. In the episode Nobody’s Listening he starts to listen! He resists the horrible truth and is reluctant to rebel at first, especially when he realises that there will likely be no personal benefit to him. But he goes along with the plan that has the best chance for others.
He knows all along of course that he can’t swim.
Andy Serkis is magnificent, especially in Ep 9 and the start of 10 where he shows every moment of that journey through his micro expressions. It makes his monologue utterly heartbreaking… such as the bit where his voice catches as he says “If we can fight half as hard as we’ve been working, we’ll be home in no time!” … knowing what he knows, and also knowing that he can’t tell Cassian that he won’t be making that jump for freedom with the others because Cassian would change the plan, to the detriment of all the other men.
Ulaf… I’m afraid that’s a tough question to answer because all the visual clues about this character from the very first time we see him suggest that he’s not going to be making it! Maybe his death was part of what was necessary to open Kino’s eyes to the truth. Despite his gruff exterior Kino clearly cares about others and his earlier words to Ulaf - “You are the next man out!” are going to be ringing his ears when this poor old man is finally worked to death. So if he had lived, maybe Kino wouldn’t have been persuaded – or wouldn’t have been persuaded in time . But (as we are often reminded!) these are not real people but fictional characters who have been crafted and created for specific narrative purposes and I fear that Ulaf was made for this exact role : a necessary part of Kino’s arc. Short “Watsonian” answer though: I think he’d have died in the escape, and probably at an early stage.
^ The way Kino gives an ironic smile here… devastating.
Cassian is not a heartless character. He might leave everyone behind in Ferrix or Aldhani and let them suffer because of his action (NOT that he’s aware of it), but he cares for people around him and show COMPASSION whenever he can. He’s rational and kind-hearted. And we still can see this trait few years later in Rogue One (towards Bodhi, Chirrut, Baze and Kaytoo; well, he’s irrational with Jyn, but she's special case).
an exploration of Cassian's experience of his second time getting fried. because seeing the aftermath of it on his face in the skyway devastates me every time.
read it on ao3
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Cassian’s second frying was worse than his first. The first time was horrible, but he hadn’t known what to expect, so his body responded with simple, straightforward shock. The second time, however, he had his whole first shift to dread the possibility of experiencing it again. He knew what would happen, what it would feel like, and he was terrified of it.
So when table 5 was deemed the loser of ‘the game’, he felt rooted to the spot out of sheer terror. He watched for a moment as his new tablemates proceeded with slumped shoulders and heavy steps towards the box of silver floor in the middle of the room.
Taga was shaking, and crying a little, too overcome with his own fear to pay any mind to the new man.
Ham’s eyes were wide, his expression stunned and far away.
Xaul looked primarily angry, his face flushed.
Jemboc looked defeated, sorrowful. There was no fear in his eyes, only the weariness of a man who felt he had failed in some fundamental way.
“I’m sorry, Keef,” he mumbled sympathetically as he passed Cassian, resting a hand on his shoulder for a brief moment.
Cassian just felt numb, and like he was going to be sick to his stomach, but a distant part of him felt a deep appreciation for Jemboc’s kindness. He thought of Clem for a moment and couldn’t breathe.
Ulaf staggered past him next, looking as sick as Cassian felt. Cassian braced himself to catch the old man if he fell over, although, he realized, he’d more likely end up falling to the floor with him.
Last was Melshi. The man who had reminded the others of the name Cassian had told them. He hadn’t expected that. Melshi seemed to Cassian like the kind of person whose actions he would never be able to fully predict.
They had spoken very few words to each other since Cassian had arrived on the floor, but each moment of eye contact between them (and strangely, there had been several) felt entirely new and unpredictable. Cassian didn’t know why he looked at Melshi, or why Melshi looked back at him; all he knew was that there was something in this man’s eyes that drew him in.
Kindness, and deep sorrow, and something incendiary, maybe.
As Melshi passed him on his way to the box, Cassian saw a version of his own terror in his eyes, but most of all he looked tired.
Suddenly, all the rest of table 5 were standing in the box, awaiting their punishment, and Cassian - Keef - was still rooted to the spot.
“Keef,” the floor manager was speaking to him, his gruff voice somewhat softened, though not to excess. “I need you to get in the box with your table. No exceptions for new men, I’m afraid.”
Cassian looked at him. Kino. It was like looking into the headlights of an oncoming speeder; this man was set in a direction, and he wouldn’t change course now, not for Keef. But there was pain in Kino’s expression. Sympathy and ruthlessness fought for dominance behind his eyes. Sadness won.
“Please,” Kino said in a hushed tone, with an edge of desperation, taking a step in Cassian’s direction. “I don’t want to force you. It’s better for you, for all of us, if you comply.”
Cassian looked into the headlights, and opened his mouth, but it was dry and no words came out.
He wanted to scream.
He wanted to say, I didn’t do anything!
It’s not my fault our table was last, I just got here!
I went out for peezos and milk and now I’m here.
I just want to go home.
But home, he knew, was nowhere he could reach.
So he said none of those things, and instead willed his feet to move him to the appointed place.
He arrived, and stood next to Melshi. His head was bowed and his eyes were closed. They stood behind Jemboc and Ulaf, who stood behind Taga, Ham, and Xaul.
It felt like a second and an eternity before the floor was activated.
Then it turned on, and his whole body was alight with pain. His screams were indistinguishable from those of the men around him.
The agony began in the soles of his feet, like a million tiny whips lashing every inch of his skin, and swiftly rose up through his calves, exploding through the rest of his body.
Then all at once, it was over, and his body hit the metal floor. For a moment, he could hardly see or hear through the pain still wracking his limbs, and he lay curled on his side, trembling. He could feel a bruise blooming on his ribs where he had fallen and hit steel.
Sight and sound returned to him, and still he lay curled on the floor, hardly breathing from shock. For a moment, he thought it would be like before, that the shock would pass and he would pick himself up, in horrendous pain, but with his nerve not entirely lost.
This time, though, the crushing weight of this place and the pain and his grief and the horror of all of it was too much to bear.
Cassian burst into tears.
He couldn’t tell how far around the room his sobs carried, but there was only a very small part of him that cared about that right now. He was in too much pain, and he had rarely felt so out of control of his own body, and so alone.
“Keef,” said a soft, pained voice that he was still learning to recognize. “It’s over. You’ll be alright. I know, it hurts. Hey, look at me, you’re going to be okay.”
Cassian took a gulp of air that devolved into another little sob, but he opened his eyes, and wiped them with trembling, tingling hands.
Melshi, still laying on his stomach the way he had fallen, had dragged himself closer to Cassian to try and bring him some comfort. Cassian hadn’t expected this. He realized that, though he was still learning to pick Melshi’s voice out from the crowd, he knew he would recognize his eyes anywhere.
“Breathe,” Melshi told him, a well-practiced reminder, whether from saying it so often to himself or others Cassian wasn’t sure. Cassian tried to take a deep breath, and his exhale came out shuddering. “Can I touch you?”
Cassian nodded despite himself, he wasn’t in the habit of letting people he’d just met touch him, but he needed comfort and he was beginning to trust this man to give it.
Tentatively, Melshi wrapped an arm around Cassian’s back, rubbing him softly in slow, soothing circles. With his other hand, which Cassian noticed was trembling, he took one of Cassian’s hands in his, and dug his thumb firmly but gently into his palm in an attempt to bring sensation back to the frayed nerves there.
He encouraged Cassian to take more deep breaths, and Cassian tried his best, through his sniffles and the tears still leaking from his eyes. Around them, he saw that the others were similarly gathering themselves. Jemboc was helping Ulaf stand, and Xaul had an arm wrapped around Taga’s shoulders.
“We don’t have much time. They’ll be sending us back to our cells soon,” Melshi said gently. “Can you stand?”
It sounded like a monumental endeavor. Cassian’s feet were burning and he could almost feel the painful blisters erupting on his skin, but he nodded his head.
“Okay, here we go,” Melshi said quietly, half to himself.
He still kept one hand on Cassian’s back and the other he offered for Cassian to cling to, which he did, with both hands. Melshi’s legs shook a little as he stood up while supporting Cassian in doing the same, but he let Cassian lean his weight on him, his head pressed against the taller man’s chest as he helped him up.
Then they were standing, and Melshi still held him close, still let him clutch his arm like a drowning man, as his last few sobs hiccuped out of him.
The blaring sound of the klaxon made Cassian jump, and Melshi held him tighter.
The Voice delivered its booming proclamation. Cassian only caught a few words of it, trying to calm his breathing and staunch his tears by focusing on the feeling Melshi’s uniform against his face, the smell of his sweat and the feeling of his arm around his back and his hand in his.
But he knew that the Voice said something about a cellblock, skyway, proceed, on program.
“On program!” Kino echoed, when the Voice had finished its pronouncement.
Gently, but urgently, Melshi peeled Cassian off of him, and inclined his head, speaking to him.
“Can you walk? Put your hands behind your head?”
Cassian nodded, wiped the remainders of his tears and snot on his sleeve, and raised his hands behind his head.
Melshi’s hand still rested at the small of his back, as though he were worried that Cassian might fall over at any moment, which was probably a realistic concern.
“Thank you,” Cassian croaked, his voice and composure still wavering, but steadier than they had been a minute ago.
Melshi’s only response was a small squeeze of his hand against Cassian’s back, before Kino’s eyes fell on Melshi and his distinct lack of program. Cassian watched as Kino’s eyes flicked between them, a brief flash of pity in his gaze when he looked at the new man, shaking and ruined by his ordeal. Kino made some inner calculation and settled on a warning glance at Melshi, rather than a barked order.
The warmth of Melshi’s hand left Cassian’s back, and he was on program: hands behind his head, eyes front, feet down on the deadly floor. There was nothing else to do, and sadly, nowhere else to be.
Cassian’s tears had dried up, but he still felt panic running wild in his chest and every nerve and muscle in his body felt as though it was screaming at him.
Soon they were all filing in a long line out of the workroom, and Melshi drifted away from Cassian into the sea of orange and white uniforms, but not before meeting his eyes once more, as he put some distance between them.
His glance seemed to say: I’m sorry.
Wish you weren’t here.
I’m sorry you’re here.
And what a kindness it was, to feel that someone wished he was anywhere but here, in this prison.
Cassian hoped his responding gaze told Melshi something of the same: I wish you weren’t here either. But since we’re both here, thank you for going out of your way to make it a little more bearable, for me.
For @andorappreciation Week 2023! A little backstory for Ulaf 💙 Opening below and complete fic below the cut.
Ulaf was not an innocent man.
Of course he wasn’t. He was too old to be innocent in a world that was hard, containing “rules” that were arbitrary and ever-changing.
He committed his first crime when he was no more than 8 years old–and if he was being honest he was surprised it had taken him that long. His stomach was horribly empty, the kind of empty where even the grit of dust on his tongue held a certain sort of appeal. He hadn’t seen his father in over two weeks, a new record. He swiped a piece of fruit from a woman’s bag the moment she set it on the ground to examine another item, and he ran, fast, the wind whistling in his ears like a scream.
His father eventually came home a week after that. He wore the same clothes Ulaf had last seen him in–now patterned with sweat and other mystery stains–reeking of booze, not a credit left in his pockets (not that there had been many to begin with) and a large, greening bruise on his face, the ugly of his insides seeping onto the surface of his flesh.
A week after that, Ulaf’s father disappeared again, but Ulaf wasn’t too sad about it. This time, he didn’t wait for his father to return. As soon as he realized what had happened, he committed his ninth and tenth crimes (stealing a coat to fend off the cold and a new pair of shoes to keep out the rain). Then, he found a new place to live–in an abandoned building on the outskirts of town.
Ulaf thought he might have seen his father one more time a year later–the briefest glimpse of a pair of familiar, vacant eyes belonging to a man stumbling out of the cantina–but 6 years after that he realized he had been mistaken, because a stranger walked up to him, clapped a hand on his shoulder and laughed drunkenly as he told Ulaf about a man he’d killed 7 years ago. “You’re the spitting image of him. Miserable bastard…You interested in a bet?”
It was lucky Ulaf possessed not a single thing of value, it wasn’t possible to gamble with nothing.
Or maybe that wasn’t quite true.
He couldn’t gamble in the way his family had for generations before him, but he gambled in other ways, took risks when he needed to for survival…and when he didn’t need to, because he found something in his veins turned to gold when his heart was pounding, lungs burning, the prickle of danger sending shivers down his spine.
It was the only time he felt like he was worth something; capable, powerful, above the grime and the muck and the cruelty into which he had been born. It was the only time, that is, until he met Neel.
When Ulaf was 19 he stumbled upon an open doorway, a pool of warm, yellow light beckoning, the delicate clinking of fine glassware, the easy hum of chatter–not a single voice raised in anger or distress, not a single soul bothered by anything that existed beyond the walls immediately around them. At first he thought he might be dreaming, or else, he’d stumbled upon some strange portal to a parallel universe.
Ulaf walked through the door and into a room drenched in opulence. There was food everywhere, no one was worried about the draft streaming in from the outside, everyone was dressed in beautiful and intricate clothes–a single thread of which Ulaf felt certain was worth more than every bit of fabric cloaking his body.
No one seemed to notice him, they were too caught up in themselves. Ulaf found an empty bowl–large, ornate, and purple, looking like it had never once been used–and set to work wandering the party, casually scraping food (pastries, fruit, vegetables, meats, all unidentifiable and bite-sized) into the container.
When the bowl was filled to the rim–practically overflowing, in danger of spilling if not balanced correctly–Ulaf began making his exit, and…locked eyes with a boy–about his age, dressed in worn, ragged clothing the same as him, with short brown hair and a long, skinny frame.
Ulaf waited a moment, bracing for a shout, for an arm to rise and a finger to point, an outraged glare to appear upon the boy’s face–throw him under the speeder to make his own escape easier.
But the boy only continued to watch him with curious, gray eyes–the same color as the sky outside.
Ulaf took a hesitant step towards the door, holding his breath.
The boy did nothing.
So, Ulaf continued walking steadily for the exit, clutching his bowl of treasures tighter to his middle and staring straight ahead.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the boy following him, gaze never lifting from his face as he slipped through the crowd.
For some reason, Ulaf did not feel the need to run. His path intersected with the boy’s at the entrance to the party and they both stopped, silent and still staring.
“You know,” the boy said quietly, looking down at the bowl of food in Ulaf’s arms, “I think that bowl is only for decoration.”
Ulaf blinked in confusion, glanced at the bowl, perfectly useful–what they were supposed to be, what else?
“I’m just saying,” the boy murmured, then lifted his eyes, corners of his mouth turning upwards into a small smile. “It’s probably made of something valuable. You might be able to get some credits for it after you’re done with it.”
“Okay…” Ulaf didn’t know what to do. Usually all his instincts would be pushing him to leave, run, get away, but something had taken hold of him, rooting him to the spot, and he suspected somehow that the boy was responsible.
“I’m Neel,” the boy offered his hand, spotless, glowing–he’d taken the time to wash them recently, maybe in preparation for this, for whatever little good that did to help him blend in considering his outfit.
Ulaf awkwardly shifted the bowl in his arms, rubbed his palm against the side of his leg–not that it would accomplish anything, he was certain there was plenty of dirt on his pants as it was–and took the boy’s hand in his own, gave a tentative, gentle shake.
“What’s your name?” Neel asked.
“Ulaf…” he replied, beginning to feel restless, shifting his feet.
“Ulaf,” Neel repeated, nodding his head. “Nice to meet you, Ulaf.” He leaned closer and asked quietly, “Are you willing to share?”
He’d never shared a meal with anyone. His mother had died giving birth to him, he had no siblings, and his father had never been much company. The idea of sharing was new, but it seemed nice.
Ulaf silently nodded. Together, he and Neel stepped into the fresh air where the cold bit at his cheeks, trying and failing to chase away the steady flush that had risen there, accompanying a ticklish sensation that was playing in his gut.
They found a rooftop to sit on while they ate, legs dangling over the edge as they talked. Later that same night the richness of the stolen food would make them both sick, but the next day they finished the rest of it anyways–too rare a gift to let go to waste.
The night marked the beginning of a new phase in Ulaf’s life. He and Neel became fast friends, partners, working together to get through it all. Ulaf learned how to laugh, because of Neel. Learned there was more to life than survival. Learned happiness.
It was Neel who convinced Ulaf that they could get jobs, make money–find stability. And he was right. Their home was changing, old buildings being torn down, new ones being built up. There were more residents arriving, hosting fancy parties like the one Ulaf had met Neel at; more wealth streaming in, carving new features into the landscape of the town.
Ulaf found he didn’t mind it. It made work easier to find, and that work was pleasant enough. Construction challenged him in unexpected ways–mind and body–and he was surprised by the satisfaction he felt when a project finished. Something new in place, rising from rubble, thanks to the work of him and his team.
He and Neel were a part of the team that tore down the old building they had once called home. The walls came down with unnervingly little effort–all in one morning’s work. That same day, they took what little credits they saved and moved into an apartment together, sleeping on the floor, wondering at the ceiling over their heads–no more need to worry about the rain.
When Ulaf was 25 (and Neel 26), they met Ver. One drink after a long day on site, “just one drink,” Neel wanted, and Ulaf’s entire life changed. Again.
From the moment Neel saw Ver–across the room, black hair cascading down a slender shoulder, drinking something pink and sweet–Ulaf could see how he felt about her.
Because of Ver, Ulaf learned love. He learned jealousy, and hurt, and the bitter taste of swallowing it all, hoping it wouldn’t cause him to choke. But in spite of everything, he could see how happy Ver made Neel, and in that way, she made him happy too. And anyways, it was his fault, he reasoned, for not realizing sooner how he felt about his first, longest, and best friend…
A few months later, Ver had moved in with them. Ulaf enjoyed her goofy sense of humor; she was a good cook, a fierce friend, and she never made him feel left out. The first thing she told him after she and Neel announced they were getting married was, “But I don’t want you to think this means you need to move out. Okay?” Like it had never been a question to her, but she knew his mind, and she knew he would need that reassurance.
In the end, they all ended up moving out when Ver became pregnant. With three sources of income, they just managed to afford a new home: a cozy house a few blocks away, with three bedrooms, a run-down, but proper kitchen, and even a little living room, where they carefully arranged second-hand furniture, flickering, barely-functioning lamps, and a dusty, green rug.
Their unusual, but loving family gradually grew into the space, filling it with a warmth it had not previously possessed. First Xara arrived, with beautiful eyes of slate-gray, just like her father’s. Then two years later Zo joined, possessing her mother’s same contagious, bubbly laugh. The persistent ache that had haunted Ulaf’s chest for years now, eased somewhat. It was hard to regret how his life had gone when he felt the love he did for his friends and for their children.
He made sure they felt every bit of support and care he had never received.
Xara was the curious one, always asking questions, always wanting to learn. It was no surprise to anyone when she started school and became fully absorbed in her studies. When she was old enough, she even taught Ulaf to read–something he had never had the privilege or time to do when he was her age.
Zo had a rebellious spirit, like Neel, that got her into trouble more often than not when she hit her teens. But when she was hissing fire at her parents, she confided in Ulaf, and he provided her with what guidance he could–usually managing to convince her that Neel and Ver were on her side too.
They grew up too fast. They all did, decades flashing past like the lights on a speeder.
Zo married a good man who became ill and died tragically young, leaving her a widowed mother to their five year old son–named Ulaf, after his great-uncle. She came home to live with Neel, Ver, and Ulaf again.
Xara showed up one day with her best friend–a woman who she reintroduced to them as her now-fiance. The celebration that ensued lasted well into the earliest hours of the next morning. There was a strange combination of joy and grief that settled in Ulaf as he watched Xara and her wife-to-be, witnessing a future he’d never quite imagined was possible…
While Neel and Ver aged gracefully, Ulaf found he did not. His bones began to ache fiercely in the chill of winter mornings. He left construction work not long after his 65th birthday, his fingers grown too clumsy for the tools, his back too painful, his feet weary. He was surprised he had lasted as long as he had, not just because of his deteriorating physical health, but because the work had been gradually drying up for years before…
Ulaf was 68 when he overheard Neel and Ver’s hushed words in the kitchen. “There’s not enough…” “We have to figure something out.” His friends had never kept secrets from him before, a weight like a rock settled in his stomach.
Not long after, Ulaf was lying awake one night, listening, because Neel hadn’t come home yet…
The door gave a familiar creak as it slid open–they’d never managed to figure out how to fix it in all the years they’d lived there–and Ulaf slid from his bed and padded softly into the living room.
He found Neel sitting–saggy-postured, and exhaustion pouring out of every angle of his body–on the couch, picking mindlessly at the edges of a hole in the upholstery.
Ulaf switched on the light, announcing his presence and revealing Neel’s face: one eye swollen shut, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead, staring at palms scraped raw from a fall. It reminded Ulaf of his father; pulled him right back to the nights of hunger and cold, fear, loneliness.
“Neel,” he breathed, collapsing into the seat next to Neel, gently taking his hands and turning them over carefully, wincing at the depth of the scratches. “Hold on.” He rose–joints voicing their complaint in loud pops–to grab the spare bacta patch they had from the kitchen cupboard along with whatever other bandages he could find.
“Don’t tell Ver,” Neel murmured upon his return, flinching as Ulaf began to dab lightly at the cut on his forehead with a damp cloth.
“Neel, I don’t know if–”
“Please,” he repeated, and Ulaf saw a desperate light in his friend’s eyes that sent a cold spark of terror in him.
“What’s going on?” Ulaf whispered, lifting the cloth to check his work, reaching behind him for the bacta patch when he saw the wound was clean.
Neel gave a hard swallow, looked away for the first time since Ulaf had joined him in the room. “I got fired, they saw I couldn’t keep up anymore–not that there was enough work to begin with. And then… You know we’ve been helping Zo with taking care of the kid ever since…” He shook his head. “We were cleared out. Nothing left. And now…”
Ulaf looked down at the bacta patch in his hand, fingers worrying over the packaging as he tonelessly said, “How much do you owe?”
He heard Neel give a heavy sigh, “Too much.”
“How much, maybe I can help–”
“No,” Neel argued fiercely. “And then what? We’ll be no better off.”
Ulaf stilled as memories came flooding into his mind. “We had nothing before…”
“When we were young, Ul,” Neel protested, “when we were young. It’s different now. What with the kids…”
In the silence that settled, Ulaf tore into the bacta, gently lined it up with the wound on Neel’s face and pressed, before dragging his hand away, lingering on his friend’s cheek. He handed Neel the damp cloth to put on his swollen eye and looked to his empty hands. “Who?” he asked quietly. “Who do you owe?”
“I didn’t want to get wrapped up with a whole crew. I went to the one at the end of the road, just off the market. But it was a mistake, he’s worse than most. Demanding. Uncompromising.”
“Okay,” Ulaf murmured, lifting his head to stare at the shadows pooling at the end of the dark, empty hallway where not far-off Zo was sleeping with the son she’d named after him, where the woman who had given him a family–Ver–was dreaming, maybe nightmares. And then he turned back to find Neel’s steady, gray eyes watching him, turning him into a boy again, running through alleyways, ears ringing with laughter. “Don’t worry,” Ulaf told him. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Ul…”
Ulaf took one of Neel’s hands in his own before he could fully realize what he was doing. “It’ll be okay.” He didn’t know what else to say, ‘Thank you’, would echo with a finality too sharp for Neel to accept–would only lead to him resisting. And…
‘I love you,’ would be a betrayal. Even if it was true, it would be. To Ver, to Neel, to his family.
Ulaf slowly stood. “It’ll be okay. Go to sleep, I’ll be back.”
Neel rose, something unreadable on his face. He reached a hand round to the back of Ulaf’s neck, pulled him in close till their foreheads were touching, the bacta patch a bubble pressed between them. The only sound was that of their breathing, kept in perfect rhythm, and Ulaf could feel it, for the first time in years… His heart pounding, something in his veins turned to gold…
It was a while before they broke apart. Ulaf waited to leave until Neel had limped his way down the hallway and shut the door to his and Ver’s bedroom.
Then, he walked out of his home and into the moonlit street, the crisp, night air setting his lungs on fire with something fierce and brave.
He tried bargaining with the man who had loaned his friend money, but the man’s greed was evident, his threats only increasing in severity with each passing moment Ulaf spent with him.
In the end, their arguing was too loud–attracting the attention of local law enforcement. A banging on the man’s door interrupted them, the man turning his head with a scowl.
Ulaf took advantage of the man’s distraction to grab the man’s blaster from his belt and fire.
The Imps came rushing in, saw the man writhing on the floor in pain, clutching at his side, and arrested Ulaf on the spot.
At first, the work in Narkina 5 reminded Ulaf of his days spent working alongside Neel, putting pieces together…only this time there was no end, and it was always the same, and the pain was there, always there, every ‘night’ when he went to bed, every ‘day’ as he worked, and every ‘morning’ as he rose, forced to do it all over again.
Until one day, he couldn’t do it anymore.
In his life, Ulaf had stolen. He had lied, to himself, to his loved ones, for decades. And, he had committed an act of violence against another person.
Part 1 of a 3 part fic for Cassian Andor x reader.
Warnings: Angst, Andor spoilers, brief mentions of suicide, cannon typical violence, mentions of death, cannon character death
Words: 4,554
Notes: This is the longest single chapter I’ve ever written and I poured everything I had into it. I really hope you all enjoy it.
* * *
“On program!” Kino yells and you quickly place yourself into position. You lost track of the amount of times you’d done this. The days spent toiling away, each passing by in an endless blur just like the day before. Hope was a nonexistent entity. Your only hope on any day was not being the team in last place.
You’d heard the whispers of an uprising. You’d seen the others communicating between floors, trying desperately to find a way out. But you knew it was a hopeless endeavour. There were only two ways of getting out of Narkina 5. By finishing your sentence and being freed, or in a body bag.
The officer on the level above shoved forward the latest poor soul to enter the compound and rode the small elevator down. You studied the new man, his brown eyes blown wide as he took everything in. You knew what he must be feeling, for you’d stood in his place once. And realising that this is what your fate was, was a crushing feeling indeed.
After the guard was gone and Kino gave his speech, the new guy moved in towards his table, the one next to yours as work started back up once more. You kept your eyes glued to the task before you, unwilling to let your group fall behind, to be the last team. Even as you focused on your task you could hear the murmurings of the group next to yours, curiosity driving you to pay some attention to what they were saying.
“What’s your name?” Melshi asked, probably already guiding the new guy into his work.
“Keef Girgo.” The man replied curtly, and that was the last you heard from the group as Kino snapped at them to get to work.
* * *
The flames flicked high into the sky, casting the world around you in a red glow. Your eyes strained to see anything through the flames and smoke. The same smoke that was filling your lungs, making each breath feel like another flame was burning within your lungs.
You screamed, looking all over to try and find your family. You knew they were here somewhere within the flamed wreckage of what had once been a peaceful village.
Someone far off screamed in pain and you thought you recognized their scream. You turned to go towards them when a tight, vice-like grip grabbed hold of your arm. You let out your own wailing scream of despair as the stormtrooper gripping your arm began to drag you out and away from your home.
You struggled against him with all your might, but he wouldn’t let go, rather he tightened his grip upon you. You were strong, working the soil all your life had taught you strength, but he was a trained soldier, he knew how to hold back someone who could be stronger than him. You were left weak and at his will.
The stormtrooper threw you onto a shuttle, a few others were on it with you, fellow villagers. All of them covered in soot and ash, fear blowing their eyes wide open, as you knew your own were.
Silence rang in your ears as the ramp to the shuttle raised and lifted up off the ground. Your stomach sank as the shuttle flew off, away from the fire, away from the remains of your home, away from your family.
You just knew you’d never be back again.
* * *
Keef Girgo, or rather, Cassian Andor, watched the proceedings of the prison in silence. A dull emotion had settled over him, and he wasn’t sure what it was. Hopelessness perhaps. Or, perhaps it was his resolve to find a way out no matter what, which was something he wasn’t entirely convinced wouldn’t just end with him dead. But he was willing to try.
So he observed the proceedings around him during his work shift, and even as he stood waiting in the walkways with the others in his group for the changeover of shifts, he observed. That’s how he saw one of his fellow prisoners making gestures out the window, and looking, he could see one of the other walkways, and a prisoner over there making hand signals back to the man on his side of the glass.
“What are they talking about?” Cassian asked quietly.
“Plans of escape usually, though I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Nobody escapes from here.” You whispered softly in reply. Cassian turned around to see you standing behind him, he froze for a few moments as he took in your features.
“On program!” Kino shouted, walking past the two of you and Cassian snapped back around, falling into position like the others. He knew he shouldn’t push boundaries, at least not on the first day.
“They are organising an escape?” He asked you quietly, keeping his eyes glued before him.
“They attempt to. It’s also just a way to talk between floors.” You replied quietly. “But like I said, nobody escapes, so don’t get your hopes up.”
“What other choice is there if not to try to escape?” Cassian asked. He could tell from the tone in your voice that your spirit was crushed. But he believed that escape was possible, and he was going to die trying if it came to it. He owed it to Maarva to try and get word back to her.
“Keep quiet!” Kino shouted from the front so loud Cassian almost missed your reply.
“Finish your sentence, or die in here.”
* * *
Days blended together for Cassian. He worked, trying to help prevent his team from coming in last everyday, and tried to work out escape plans with his fellow inmates who were already working on plans. At nights, before the floor would activate he would gather with the others and work out plans in hushed tones. Even though none of the prison guards would be listening in, they all agreed they didn’t need Kino yelling at them all for making up foolish plans, as he had a few times before.
Cassian was distracted from the conversation when he saw you walking past. He didn’t know why, but something about you just drew him to you.
Maybe it was the fact, that even though everyone here had a sense of hopelessness to them, especially so with the increased sentence times, you seemed to be so much more devoid of life than any of the others.
Leaving the conversation, Cassian stood outside the opening to your sleeping quarters, the one next door to his. You looked at him, quirking your brow in question.
“Why don’t you want to escape?” Cassian asked you. He’d asked the question of a few others, and mostly he’d gotten to learn that if they could, they’d want out.
“There is no escaping from here.” You replied flatly.
“And what if you could. Wouldn’t you want to?” He pressed. He didn’t know why he was so persistent with you. But he wanted to know you, wanted to know everyone around him really, but especially you.
“Do you have someone at home to go back to?” You asked him instead of answering.
“I do. I have my mother.” He replied. He looked into your gaze, and for the first time since he’d been there, he saw more than just blank despair. He saw pain, raw and true flicker across your features. As you opened your mouth to say something to him, a voice rang out above them all, warning prisoners to return to their cells before the floor became active.
You turned your back on him and he watched you for a few more moments before quickly moving over into his cell just before the lights went dark and the floor went live.
* * *
The shuttle landed down on some planet. You didn’t know where you were. You had never before left your home, never even left your village, and now, here you were, being ushered off a shuttle by stormtroopers, scared and practically alone. The other villagers were with you, but like yourself, they were all silent, fear and anguish gripping their tongues tightly.
The stormtroopers lead you all into a large building and had you all wait in a line before who you quickly came to realise was a judge. The stamping of the sentence tickets rang out in your head, like a guillotine dropping over the necks of everyone she sentenced.
Finally it was your turn on the chopping block as you stepped up before the judge. You repeated your name out to the judge before she read out your sentence, your stomach dropping out from your gut.
“Guilty of rebellion against the empire. Six years.” She stated, and down came the sentence stamp. The clang of the metal being engraved ringing in your ears as your whole body and mind went numb.
You awoke with a gasp in a pool of your own sweat. You could feel it across your back and dripping down your forehead. Standing up you stumbled forward to the edge of your cell, trying to get some cooler feeling air as you tried to shake the memory from your mind.
Your whole body shook as silent tears began to fall and you slid down the wall until you were sitting right on the edge of the floor. You let out a choked sob and you faintly heard the sounds of someone moving on the other side of the wall.
“Are you alright?” You heard someone whisper quietly and it took you a moment to realise it was Keef. You took a long, shaky breath before answering.
“Yeah. I’m okay.” You replied quietly, lying to both yourself and him.
“But, you are crying.” He replied, sympathy in his voice. You were both silent for a few moments after that. You turned your head to gaze blankly at the red lights on the floor as tears still flowed freely down your face.
“Have you ever lost anyone?” You asked, so quietly you weren’t sure he’d even hear you.
“Yes. I lost my father. And I’ve seen the deaths of others around me.” He answered honestly. “What about you?”
“I lost my whole family. I don’t know for sure if they died, but deep down. I know they’re gone.” You replied, voice cracking as fresh tears rolled down your face in heavy waves. “They’re all gone.” You sobbed. “My parents, my brother, everyone. They’re all dead. They’re all gone. I’ll never see them again and it’s all because of this blasted empire.”
You put your head in your hands and cried. You cried until you didn’t think any liquid was left in your body. Keef had been silent so long you’d almost even forgotten about him when he finally spoke up again.
“The empire is the reason my father died. The reason why I was not able to stay with my mother. They’re why I’m here now. I understand loss, but yours is a greater loss than I could know. I am sorry for that.” He said quietly. You knew he meant well, trying to comfort you, but the words fell hollow and heavy on your heart, so wrung through with pain that it surprised you when you felt a small flicker of warmth and appreciation for the man.
“Thank you Keef.” You whispered softly, wiping away the remainder of your tears.
“Cassian.”
“What?”
“My name. It’s not Keef. It’s Cassian. Cassian Andor.”
“Well thank you Cassian. And, your secret is safe with me.”
* * *
Something was deeply wrong. Everyone could feel it. Taga was frantically trying to communicate with the other floors as panic levels rose within everyone.
Panic gripped your heart like an icy vice, sinking its talons in deep and making your blood feel cold as it coursed through your veins.
“What’s going on?” Cassian asked from Taga’s side, looking out at the other floors despite not being able to translate the hand gestures himself.
“Something’s happening on 2.” Taga replied, panic lacing his tone as he continued trying to communicate with the others.
“Everyone calm down.” Kino ordered, though even he had a note of panic in his tone. That was something that worried you deeply. The floor manager never once showed panic or fear, but now. Now you knew things were really wrong if even Kino was impacted.
“What is going on?” Someone yelled.
“I don’t know. Something’s happening on 2 but nobody can say what.” Taga replied, more panic in his tone than before. You could practically feel the fear in the air now. Everyone was on edge and nobody knew what to do.
Suddenly the voice of your captors came over the speakers, calling for all prisoners to get on program or face consequences. Everyone was in too much of a panicked state to process the order at first.
“Get on program, now.” Kino ordered, pulling people away from the windows. Soon they were all complying, standing still with your hands on your heads.
“What happened?” Cassian hissed.
“Be quiet.” Kino snapped, not turning around to look at him.
“They’re all dead. They killed the whole floor.” Taga replied quietly. Shock fell through the group and you felt like you could breathe anymore. Each breath was an effort for you as you followed the others in the lineup towards your sleeping area.
Panic held you tightly in its clutches as your mind ran wild. The only reason you could think of for them killing a whole prison floor was that they found out that they, like those on your floor, wanted to find a way to escape.
Numbly, you barely even registered you were back standing before your cell, taking a few moments to realise where you were. Cassian started to walk past you and you snapped. You were beginning to care for the man, having had other late night talks with him when neither of you could find any comfort in sleep. And now, with these new events, you didn’t want the man to wind up dead, much less bringing all the others to the grave with him.
“You realise why they killed them!” You snapped, moving to stand before Cassian. He looked at you, slightly bewildered at your sudden change in mood and tone. He’d never heard you speak in more than a hushed tone, and definitely not with so much venom in your voice.
“Why?” He asked quietly.
“Because they must have found out they were looking for a way to escape. Why else would they kill an entire floor? You need to stop this, you’re going to get yourself and everyone else around you here killed.”
“We don’t know that that’s why they killed them all. And I’d rather die trying to get free then let them break me in here trying to work for a freedom that may never come.”
The blood was roaring so loudly in your ears that you didn’t hear the warnings for the floor. You didn’t hear Kino yelling for you to get into your cell, now.
The next thing you knew, your arm was being grabbed and you were pulled up against someone’s chest, just as the lights in the room went dark and floor went live.
Your breath came out in ragged gasps, the rage and anguish that gripped you before dissipating as you stared at the spot on the floor where you’d been moments before, the same spot of floor that now ran with an electrical current, set to kill anyone who dared touch it.
Slowly you turned your head to look up at Cassian. He still held a loose grip of your arm, hand just above the elbow. Your chests were nearly touching, but closest of all was his face, his mouth close enough to you that you could feel his breath fanning across you. Your heart thrummed in your chest, and you were certain that he could hear it. For the first time in a long time, you truly felt alive.
However, the moment was over before it could even truly begin as Cassian slowly let his hand fall back to his side and took a step back in the already small space. The pounding of your heart slowed back down and the feelings subsided, leaving you back to your bleak world, as though the colour had been leached back out of your life right after being able to see it again for the first time in a very long time.
“You can take the bed for the night since you’re stuck here.” He offered quietly, and you nodded mutely in response. All the emotions from before and the near death experience as well as the odd swell of emotions from being faced so close to Cassian left you feeling numb.
You lay down on the bed and find sleep a hard thing to come by. The events of the day left your soul feeling raw, and your heart feeling numb. Eventually your eyes became too heavy to hold open and you drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
* * *
The dreams were different this time. Rather than reliving the events as they happened, you could move around, and you weren’t sure if that was worse.
You watched as the stranger approached your village, injured and weakened. Your mother, always a kind woman with an open heart for anyone, helped the man into your home. You learned little about him, but it was clear he was hiding from something and despite protests on your part, your mother insisted on keeping the stranger and helping him.
Then they came.
You screamed and tried to stop them as they marched towards your home. They carried on walking, despite all your efforts and you watched helpless as they banged on your door. It was odd, seeing yourself opening the door, watching as your eyes widened in fear and called for your mother just as you had that day.
You disappeared from the doorframe and your mother appeared instead.
“What can I help you with?” She asked politely, calm even then.
“You are harbouring a fugitive of the empire. Return him and the punishment will not be as severe as it can be.” The leading stormtrooper replied.
“I’m sorry. We have nobody here like that.” Your mother replied, lying to the stormtroopers. You closed your eyes, tears falling because you knew what came next.
The stormtroopers searched your home from top to bottom, but found nothing because your mother had moved the stranger next door when reports came to her of the approaching stormtroopers.
The same stormtroopers who returned later that day and began to burn everything down.
You were helpless to do anything but watch as your brother stormed towards the Stormtroopers, begging them to stop and blocking them from getting to a home. The home of his Fiance that he’d so proudly asked to marry him just that morning and you’d all been so happy about. That happiness felt a lifetime away now.
A scream was ripped from your throat as the lead stormtrooper casually pulled out a blaster and shot your brother down. A single shot to the head and the stormtroopers stepped over the still warm body of your brother, smoke curling up from the wound, and began to set fire to the house. The screams from inside the home echoed in your mind as you stared down at the face of your brother, a look of fear and anguish permanently frozen on his features.
Once more you woke, drenched deeply in sweat. You were shaking and tears were rolling freely down your face. You exited the bed, stepping carefully over Cassian who was asleep on the floor and walked to the edge of the cell.
You leaned forward, staring down at the floor. Every nerve and fibre in your being told you to do it. All it would take was just one step. Then you could finally be free from everything. You lifted one foot and started to move forward.
A tight grip on your arm came suddenly and pulled you back into the cell and flush up against Cassian’s chest once more. His breath came in ragged gasps of panic across your face and you could see the fear in his brown eyes.
You broke down sobbing, burying your head against his chest as his arms moved to encircle you. He gently rubbed your back as you cried. He knew to just let you get it out of your system and wait for you to be ready to talk.
“I’m such a hypocrite.” You sobbed against his chest after a while, the tears had resided some, though you were still crying. “I was so mad about a whole floor being killed, but then I-” you broke off into sobs again.
“You are not a hypocrite. Hearing about the deaths of others is always a hard thing. And I don’t know what drove you to this, but I know you must have had your reasons.” Cassian replied quietly. He slipped a hand under your chin and tilted your head back to look at him “But please, promise me you won’t try this again. I care about you, and if that means nothing, then just hold onto the fact that if you can get one person to care, you could get someone who you care about to care too.”
It took you a while to process his words, gazing up into his soft brown eyes, you could see the care he’d come to hold for you in the time he’d been here shining in his gaze. You leaned in closer, heart pounding in your chest in a different way that it had been before. Cassian closed the final distance between the two of you.
His lips were soft and warm against yours as your eyes fluttered shut, leaning into the kiss. You moved your hands up to hold the back of his head while his hands moved to cusp the sides of your face. Everything about the moment was pleasantly warm, and that warmth filled your heart, chasing away the lingering curls of the sadness from before.
Eventually the two of you parted, though still remained close in each other's arms. You opened your eyes to look up at him, and saw a small smile curling his lips. A smile came to your own lips.
“Please, promise me you’ll stay for me.” He whispered softly. “Don’t leave me.”
“I promise.”
* * *
Your heart was racing in your chest as you followed Cassian and Kino through the halls. Adrenaline fueled you and the three of you ran towards the command centre. So far, Cassian’s escape plan was actually working.
Ulaf’s death had spurred things into action and now, now that freedom was so close you could nearly taste it, you actually felt hopeful.
Cassian kept you close to him as you went. He carried a blaster and took out any guards you came across for you. He knew you couldn’t handle killing anyone and he wasn’t going to force you to make that choice.
When you reached the command room you stuck close behind Cassian, listening as Kino made his speech. Everything Kino said set your blood ablaze, giving you a newer will to get free.
When the three of you left the room, you were all chanting, so was everyone else in the building.
“One way out!”
“One way out!”
“ONE WAY OUT!”
The flow of people pushing past you was strong. You got separated from Kino and Cassian as people pushed past you, and pushed you closer to the edge of the prison. You didn’t even get your own chance to jump as the waves of people pushed you over the edge.
Hitting the water was a shock on your system, and your head slipped under the water for a few moments. The sudden cold stunned you for a few moments before instinct kicked in and you swam your way up to the surface, gasping for air as you got your head above water. People were all around you, swimming as fast as they could to get away from the building. Your heart tightened in your chest as you looked around in a panic.
“Cassian!” You screamed, trying to find him. You didn’t know if he’d hear you over the sounds of the waves and the people swimming through them but you had to try. “Cassian!” You screamed again, turning around to look the other way.
You were about to give up when you finally saw him, and he was clearly looking around for you too. He looked over and spotted you and he quickly went over to you, Melshi with him as well. Together again, the three of you began to swim, just like all the others.
Away from the prison. Away from the pain. Away from the empire.
* * *
Niamos was a quiet planet, especially now as the sun was setting before you. You stood next to Melshi, watching your first sunset in years. Your new stolen clothes feel so much more comfortable against your skin than the prison uniform ever had. Glancing back towards Cassian, you watched him talking on the phone for a moment, trying to contact his mother to let her know he was okay.
“We might be the only ones who made it.” Melshi said quietly next to you, drawing your attention towards him.
“I still can’t believe we made it.” You replied softly, and he gave a small smile.
“One way out. And we found it.” He replied, before looking to Cassian as he came over to join the two of you. “Everything okay?”
Cassian nodded “Yeah, it’s fine.” You could tell that he was lying, but you weren’t going to press him, not right now.
“We need to let people know about what happened.” Melshi said and Cassian nodded in agreement. “I think we should split up, get the word out. If they were moving prisoners around on Narkina 5 they’re probably doing it in other prisons too.”
“I agree. People need to know what happened.” Cassian said, and he pulled Melshi into a hug. The two embraced before parting. Melshi gave you a hug as well before Cassian gave him a blaster and the two of you watched as Melshi took off on his own.
“My mother died.” Cassian told you, long after you’d stopped seeing Melshi in the distance.
“Oh Cas, I’m so sorry.” You replied, turning to look at him.
“I’m going back to see her funeral.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
“No, the empire is there. I can handle myself but please, don’t come. If they get me, I can find my way out again. I don’t want to put you through that again though. Promise me you will wait for me.” He says quietly.
“I promise.” You whisper, and he pulls you close in his arms, pressing his lips to yours. Heat fills you once more, and this time, there are no others who could see the two of you around.
Cassian gives you a night of love and passion. And even though your mind is distracted by everything about him, deep down you knew.
You knew in your heart that when you woke in the morning he would already be gone. In his place was a note with just three words.
