Part V

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After being marched across the desert for what felt like hours, Mirax was thrown into a cell with Cassian, Chirrut, and Chirrut's companion. She had no idea where Jyn had been taken, but was sure that Jyn could handle herself wherever she might have been—she had grown up with Saw Gerrera's rebels, after all.

Mirax sat with her back against the uneven surface of the stone wall, legs stretched out in front of her, twirling one of her braids between two fingers. She tried to think like Moria, but she didn't think yelling profanities at these rebels would do any good.

Nearby, Chirrut also sat, hands folded in front of him, chanting under his breath. "You pray?" the bearded man scoffed. "Really?" Turning to Cassian and Mirax, he said, "He's praying for the door to open."

"Pray I get a chance to work," Cassian replied, looking through the bars in the door to their cell. Mirax couldn't see what he was looking at from where she sat, but assumed he was examining the controls to the door.

Chirrut stopped his chanting. "It bothers him because he knows it is possible." Despite the gravity of the situation, his voice remained hopeful. The larger man laughed drily. "Baze Malbus was once the most devoted Guardian of us all."

"I'm beginning to think the Force and I have different priorities," Cassian observed as a rolled up one pant leg, revealing a set of lock picks strapped to his ankle.

"Relax, Captain," Chirrut suggested. Mirax couldn't recall anyone calling Cassian by his title before then. "We've been in worse cages than this one."

"Yeah?" Cassian replied in an unimpressed tone. "Well, this is a first for me."

"There is more than one sort of prison, Captain," Chirrut pointed out. "I sense that you carry yours wherever you go."

***

The group remained in the cell, waiting for a chance to escape. They sat in silence for what felt like a long time before Chirrut spoke up. "Who's the one in the next cell?"

"What? Where?" Baze stomped across the cell to a small opening Mirax hadn't noticed before. He leans over so he could see through the bars covering the opening. "An Imperial pilot."

The warrior's last comment draw Cassian's attention. "What pilot?"

"Imperial," Baze repeated, sounding disgusted. "I'll kill him."

"No—wait!" Cassian ran over, pushing Baze away from the opening. "Back off!" He crouched beside the opening, talking to whoever was on the other side. "Are you the pilot? Hey, hey—are you the pilot."

When no reply came and she could hear the frustration in Cassian's accent, Mirax walked over and put a hand on his shoulder, lightly pushing him away from the small opening. "Let me." Cassian didn't argue; he stood and stepped away, letting her take his place. She sat down and looked between the bars into the next cell. Despite the lack of light, she could see a man in an Imperial pilot's uniform sitting with his back to the cave wall. He didn't seem much older than her—Moria's age at the oldest—wore his dark hair long, and was handsome by most human standards, Mirax's included. But it was his eyes that caught her attention: they were glazed over and fixed at a point somewhere between him and the opposite wall, as if he could see something that no one else could.

"Hey," Mirax greeted in a tender voice. If he heard her, he didn't show it. "Can you hear me?" Again, she got no reply, but that did not deter her from trying again. "Are you a shuttle pilot?"

He didn't look at her, but he echoed in a soft voice, "Pilot?"

"What's wrong with him?" Chirrut asked from where he was sitting. Mirax didn't have an answer for him.

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