“That is not a one-man monitoring station,” Cassian says, unnecessarily.
“Perhaps they meant one man in a more universal sense,” K-2 says. “We are all one under the glorious Empire and, joined together in our fundamental unity, we will create a very large rocket launcher.”
“I was thinking it looks more like some sort of laser,” Cassian says.
“Having records of over 250 varieties of laser and energy-based weapons systems recorded, I can assure you that you are spectacularly incorrect and now I’m a little concerned about your understanding of basic weaponry and engineering.”
Cassian frowns over at him, then down at his comparatively tiny blaster and frankly embarrassing knives. From their position on the cliff top the stormtroopers below look like toys, but he knows from bloody and painful experience that he and K-2 cannot take on an entire battalion on their own.
“Well,” says K-2. “I’ve taken as many scans and images as I can. Are we going back to the ship or do you have a moderately suicidal spontaneous plan that I’ll need to talk you out of first?”
Cassian studies the layout of the compound, marking possible points of entry on his mental map. “Give me a minute.”
“No,” says K-2. “Absolutely not.”
“We’re already here,” Cassian argues. “We can’t come back empty-handed.”
“We absolutely can, actually.”
Cassian huffs out a breath. “I remember a time when I was in charge of this team. Where my decisions were final.”
“Human memory is a strange thing,” K-2 says cheerfully. “Creating false memories for comfort isn’t that uncommon.” And then, “Can you really call it being in charge of a team if there’s only two of us?”
“Ok,” says Cassian, ignoring the jibe like the mature adult he is. “I’ll compromise with you.”
“Oh no,” K-2 says, and actually takes a step back.
Cassian grins sharply, and kicks gently at the loose shale at the edge of the cliff. “How much explosive did you bring?”
“More than you,” K-2 says.
“Great,” says Cassian. “How do we feel about landslides?”
Instinctive or intuitive feeling as distinguished from reasoning or knowledge
–
The first time Kay hears the word emotion in his new life, it doesn’t come from Cassian. Although to be fair, he’s barely known the boy for twelve hours and at the moment, the organic is engaged in a heated argument with a man Kay understands is his superior.
Kay is standing off to the side, near a woman in white robes who arrived with Cassian’s superior. She’s the only organic in the room besides Cassian who doesn’t seem to be afraid of him– she doesn’t jump away every time he moves, remains relaxed even standing next to him.
Kay has some questions about his organic’s argument, and he decides he is 74% more likely to receive an answer from her than from anyone else. “Excuse me,” he says to begin, so she is not startled.
But she merely turns her head and regards him calmly, as if he were just another sentient. “Yes?”
“I do not understand this argument.”
“What don’t you understand about it?”
“Private Andor is being illogical.”
The woman seems amused. “Yes, it would appear so.”
“It would not appear. It is a fact. He has suffered a compound fracture in his left tibia. The chances of re-injury rise by 97% should he be allowed to leave the medbay.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Not probably. I am. Is Private Andor aware of these facts?”
“I believe so.”
Why can’t organics ever say a clear yes or no? “Then he is not behaving in a logical manner.”
“No, he is not.”
Kay waits, but the woman does not elaborate. “I do not understand.”
“He is frustrated and angry,” the woman says. “Are you familiar with those emotions?”
“I am not familiar with any emotions. I am a droid.”
“I see. Well, perhaps there’s a file you can download on organic emotions. Cassian puts up a decent front, but I’m sure it will be useful to you.” Then the argument seems to be over, and the woman leaves with Cassian’s superior.
Cassian is still on the bed, arms crossed and staring at the sheets. If the woman is to be believed, he is looking ‘angry.’ But Kay would prefer to think his organic is more logical than that. He must be an individual of higher intellect if he reprogrammed Kay the day before while they were trapped beneath a collapsed building.
He approaches Cassian’s bed. “Are you aware your tibia is broken?” Cassian doesn’t answer right away, and Kay decides to clarify. “That is the anterior bone in the lower leg.”
“I know.”
Kay does not understand Cassian’s tone, and decides the woman is right– perhaps a file on organic emotions would be useful. He makes a note to acquire one at his earliest convenience. But for now, he will simply inform Cassian of his error. “Your desire to abandon the care of medical professionals at this time is illogical.”
“I’m fine,” Cassian says, in the same tone as before.
Kay’s system momentarily stalls at the conflicting information. Perhaps Cassian is confused. “Are you aware your tibia is broken?”
Instead of answering, Cassian turns away and pulls the blanket over his head.
“K-2?” Cassian grimaced, looking from the manipulator controls to the comm. “What’s going on out there?” The comm growled with indecipherable static. Jyn saw something new flash across Cassian’s expression. He was afraid—not intellectually afraid, not afraid of failing the mission, but afraid for K-2. Afraid for his friend.
Rebellions are built on hope 