[video] children's work [broadcast mind]

[candor1]

[ooc: sorry for two BCMs in one month… realized this is the perfect way to have this much-wanted conversation with multiple era-appropriate characters! Definitely OOC fishing for Clone Wars era-perspective but OTA!]

i've learned how to paint my face how to earn my keep how to clean my kill
some nights i still can't sleep the past rolls back i can see us still
you've learned how to hold your own how to stack your stones but the history's thick
children aren't as simple as we'd like to think*

[Once again: it plays like a real-time transmission… except with ambient knowledge overlaid almost subliminally in strangely flowing blend of voice and text… and what's shown in the video obviously isn't here or now.

Welcome to more memories.]

a Rodian, a Sullustan, and a Human
children playing on a hillside
except it isn't, they aren't, and they weren't

"You're dead," said Lyyxo soberly.

"Not," said Surat.

"Are."

"Don't wanna be."

"Nobody wants to be."

"Cas-si-aaaan," whined Surat, "am I dead?"

"I wasn't looking," said Cassian.

"I thought you had my back!"

"We all have to have our own backs," said Lyyxo. "Re-form."

it wasn't a hill, it was hardened volcanic runoff
they weren't playing, they were drilling
they weren't children, they were soldiers

- - -

He's gone she'd said. Pulled him back against her as he lurched convulsively toward Jeron's body. Leave it—leave it. That's it. This way.
On the shuttle, the adult humanoid who'd pulled him from the riot turned his head so he wouldn't stare straight into the sun. "Where should I take you?"

He answered immediately, "With you."

"No. The life you'd be in for—"

"Take me with you." He was suddenly pleading.

"There's no way to explain to you what your life would be. There's no way to make it your choice."

But how many choices did an orphaned and homeworldless six year-old have…?

So finally, "Cassian Jeron Andor," she shook his hand, "I'm Xol Khryw."

(It was the most she'd hold or touch him until next year when she'd smooth back his sweat-soaked hair as they dug shrapnel unanaesthetized from his seven year-old back.)

She dropped his hand. "There. You know who to curse later."

- - -

Brought him to her people—Sullust Team Nebula of the Confederacy of Independent Systems… saving him, in a way…

Not that they called themselves "Nebula". That was their official designation, from the CIS. The Team was his home, but the Confederacy meant little to Cassian. It didn't mean much to most of the others either. For all Sullust was strategically important for the Republic, it was still Outer Rim. Most insurgency cells barely talked to one another. They had even less of a relationship with their leaders.

Between themselves, the various species of Sullustan wildlife, with whom they felt more kinship than the underground sentients (native Sullustans, SoroSuub corporation, and Spacefarers Academy) became demarkations of rank and incentive. When rallying, they were Rockrenders: the fire-colored cave dwelling reptiloids who literally ate metal. For approval, they were Ash Angels—scavenger birds, not too complimentary, but still mythic and at least they could fly. That was also an answer to the more condescending Ash Rabbit, which seemed to be Cassian's personal, much loathed nickname, until learning that every child soldier was an Ash Rabbit.

The name would only vanish when some fundamental shift made one stop being thought of as a child.

The first time Cassian took down a state-of-the-art Republic war machine—sneaking into it and depositing a handful of pebbles and grit into the right gears to bring it down—he got his first Ash Angel.

He'd killed the operators, he knew abstractly. Many of the things he did resulted in deaths. It was different the first time he killed someone up close and by hand. For more than a day he sat silently, not speaking nor crying, even when Khryw was found to sit beside him.

That was when he graduated to Rockrender. He was eight.


From the little they heard, from afar, the glorious Grievous gave them hope. Until his viciousness started to plant unwelcome seeds of discomfort. Aren't we supposed to be better than…?

At a leader's death, Nebula was renamed Fissure. Cassian wasn't sure why that would make a difference. Drastic overturn of resistance fighters was routine. They were family. They were reality. They were all that mattered. They were all expendable. They would die for each other. They frequently did. It felt redundant by then anyway. They'd become a different unit to him when, a year earlier, Xol Khryw had stopped coming back.

- - -
"Why are you talking to me?"

"You're the one who rallied the surviving ground forces at the Battle of Sullust. And more than once, before that, you halted supply lines from a single point without resources."

"How do you know any of this? Who are you?"

"Davits Draven, head of Intelligence for the Alliance to Restore the Republic."

"Are you kidding," snarled Cassian, pushing violently back from the table. "Do you know why we were fighting?"

"Against what the Republic was becoming. It was a valiant effort. It failed. Now we have to fight against what it's become." Draven held out his hand. "Want to join?"

- - -
As much as the facility on Dantooine could be said to have anyone's "office", Cassian had just burst into Draven's.

Draven took one look at him and said, "Ah."

Though he'd taken personal charge of many aspects of Cassian's (re)training, he hadn't made himself involved in reeducation. (If it can be "re-" to introduce formal schooling he'd never had in the first place.) Possibly because— "Historical Causality?"

Cassian made a strangled sound.

"It was tempting to spare you," said Draven. "But impossible."

Cassian blacked out.

He didn't know how he wound up standing amid broken furniture and in Draven's headlock.

"Attention," Draven barked.

Best as he could without breaking his own neck against Draven's forearm, Cassian snapped to.

This was before Jenoport. So he was blinded with tears.

He didn't see what Draven did after he let Cassian go—from the headlock. Not from the attention, so Cassian stood perfectly still. He felt Draven grab his hand and dab it with something that stung, then soothed; then wrapped it in a bandage. "Don't damage yourself," said Draven in a low voice. "At ease."

Cassian sagged.

Draven kept a hand on Cassian's shoulder to guide him to a chair. Didn't exactly push him into it, because Cassian offered no resistance.

"Yes," said Draven. "The conclusion, on both sides, is that the Separatist movement backfired. Speeding if not directly facilitating the rise of the Empire."

Cassian doubled over. Didn't strike his head against Draven's desk—Draven had ordered him not to. But covered his face so his hands muffled the scream.

Draven quietly moved around the room to tidy up. Close the door.

He didn't make Cassian leave, or move, or try to talk, or anything else, when Cassian quieted. Draven just picked up his datapad and continued with his work.

It was unknown hours later when Draven finally stood and put his hand on Cassian's shoulder again.

"Come with me for food," said Draven.

Cassian shook his head.

"Then speak," said Draven.

That one was an order.

Cassian's voice was raw. "If it's for nothing then how are we better? How can we claim to be serving life while dealing death? Isn't that just adding more death? Adding to their work? Maybe it would be better to not fight back. Counter violence with inaction. Let history work itself out. Just let people live their lives."

Unhurriedly, Draven pulled Cassian and his chair, by the shoulder, away from the desk. To the wall with a bench against it. Draven sat across from him so closely their knees had to alternate.

"That's why Mon Mothma tries everything else first," said Draven. "But there comes a point where not fighting back results in death, too. When they're destroying lives and dealing death on the level they are, letting it happen is not its opposite. We can't stop the violence and death. We do terrible things. But if we don't do them, the Empire does them anyway, and benefits from them. If we can't stop the terrible things, we must at the very least turn them against the Empire. Shorten their reign. When you can save lives or spare pain right now, you do it. But when you can't, you try to save lives and spare pain later. That's why it's different. That's why we fight."

He grabbed Cassian's neck to make Cassian look at him.

"That's why it was right for you to fight," he said intently. "You couldn't control the outcome. But if there's even a chance you can undo the evil, you try."

- - -

They don't identify as that anymore. Partly because of the Western Reaches Pacifications. Mostly because… …of how things turned out.
"Finally, Rabbit," said Lyyxo. "I was about to point my fingers and make pew pew noises."

Kay's oculars were flicking between the three of them. "You know each other."

"We know each other," confirmed Cassian. "Kaytu. Lyyxo. Surat."

"Ash Rabbit," said Lyyxo snidely, as if introducing Kay to Cassian. "Is that phase concluded?"

"Your part," said Cassian. "What can we take off your hands before your inspector shows up?"

"Whatever you can pay for. Don't give me that look. Information is free because it's you. We're still not arming the Rebellion."

"What would it take for us to team up?"

Lyyxo's voice would teach ice to deserts. "Knowing for sure that there being two sides at all isn't a fucking pageant."

The wind kicked up some ash.

Cassian's eyes were hard as theirs. "I know. But at some point you have to believe someone."

"And I'm glad you believe in the Rebellion," said Surat. "I am. I'd even trust your judgment. But you can't bring us with you, Sand. We'll be your informants. That's it."

Cassian nodded. They've had this conversation before. "We'll compare available credits to how damning the tech. Onto that bit about information being free."

Lyyxo shook her antennae. "No unusual output or activity from the factory. Transmissions as bored as always. Whatever the reason for acquisition spike, don't think it's being processed through SoroSuub."

"Though they're definitely going for broke with metal extraction," said Surat. "Mining operations are being revved to error."

"Wouldn't that be nice," said Cassian.

"Sing it," said Lyyxo. She regarded Kaytu. "You two wanna refresh a bit before we conclude our transaction over dinner? Maybe, I dunno, debrief?"

Surat tilted his head almost accusingly at Cassian.

"Like you didn't do worse to me," said Cassian.

"That's not driving a cycle at all," said Surat.

Lyyxo's hiss and Cassian's face going (somehow more) blank.

"Sorry," said Surat. "I meant it. I admire that you're still fighting. It's just a karking 'nockdump blasterpfassk that the fight is still fragging on."

"Yeah," said Cassian; low, intense concurrence. "It is."

Comments

Voice

[hadthehighground]

[Well that... sure was something. It’s all very sad and difficult to watch. Obi-Wan had seen many sides of the war personally, including the Separatists, and children getting pulled into the conflict did not surprise him. Though it did wrench his heart to see it. No child should be exposed to that and made to fight. One thing in particular about the... menoery?... did stand out though. Thus Obi-Wan’s quiet voice responds.]

He was right you know.

The Separatist Movement did directly facilitate the rise of the Empire.

Video

[candor1]

[The feed changes. Suddenly it's gone dark, a soft shifting darkness, then dazzling light, which resolves into sun dappling through trees.

Cassian was sitting against a tree in the De Chima woods, asleep or drifting. The comm had been in his pocket.

He pulls it out now in response to Obi-Wan's transmission. He sees that it had broadcast. He closes his eyes, looking tired and angry and wrung out. But it's no one's fault… at least, no one he can try to bargain with. Just deal with it.

He is not, at least, angry with Obi-wan. His voice is quiet.]

Yeah.

It didn't do much good at that point, looking back. Had to keep pressing on.

Never really stopped wondering though. If it was 'backfiring'. Or if we were used.

Video

[hadthehighground]

That is all one can do. We all had been used. The Seperatists, the Clones, the Jedi, many were victims in that war.

[There was sympathy in Obi-Wan’s voice. Regret. As if he saw something he shouldn’t have. Something far too deeply personal.]

I’m sorry. I take it you didn’t mean to broadcast all of that.

video

[candor1]

I don't even know how I'm doing it.

[all things considered, the next is fewer parts bitterness than it could be—there's also self-awareness. Even humor.]

Maybe irony is the Force of this world.

[His previous life had been all secrets. His own thoughts and feelings and impulse to connect foremost among them.

Maybe that's why, on some level, he can't bring himself to rail against this. Not only would it be pointless, and he'd never had the luxury of expending energy on things he couldn't affect at all. But also… this was a different life. And being forced to stay honest and transparent actually just took some of the work off him in his determination to be so anyway.

Nor does he want Obi-wan to stop talking. This is a conversation long overdue. With many of them.

…With all of them, maybe.]

"Used". So you…? Do you know? What that war… really was?

[And will you tell him? Because after spending his adult life turning his back on it, it seems to be what's haunting him now, more than things he did for the Rebellion. They were worse than things he did as a Separatist. But at least he could own them. His own decisions. Still-standing reasons.]

Video

[dun_moch]

[What in the stars did he just see? One thing is for sure though- this calls for damage control.]

Cassian, are you all right? You just sent out a most unusual transmission over your communicator.

video

[candor1]

[The feed changes, to the inside of a pocket, then the comm being pulled out, showing for a moment only the trees of the De Chima woods. Then Cassian's tired, haggard face.]

My Lord. It's… an unfortunate side effect of the Porter. Not a power I've yet learned to control.

I suppose being rid of the invading memories… my real ones got assertive. Felt more present again.

[Which was not how he liked them. Not most of them.]

video

[dun_moch]

[Dooku frowns.]

It must be a trial for you, knowing your secrets can be flung outward at any time. We all learned what that is like recently, didn't we?

[He pauses for a moment, thinking about what he just saw.]

That man you were speaking to. Draven. He recruited you into the Rebellion against the Empire?

Video

[candor1]

[The way Cassian reacted to the person of Dooku on a visceral level, like a family member he'd never had—the mythologizing had been so strongly installed…

Cassian's eyes are hooded and distant over the feed.

He nods.]

"The Alliance to Restore the Republic", originally. "The Rebellion" was what the Empire called us. We embraced it when it stuck.

General Draven. Yes.

[Mentally, father figure now being pitted against grandfather figure. Not that he would be remotely happy owning those analogies.]

voice;

[kanyounot]

[ Well this is... a lot. A lot to take in, to suddenly have show up on his network feed and experience, for lack of a better term. But Kanan certainly gets the gist of it, and understands that this is Cassian, proprietor of NeoJedha, with whom he's had a friendly conversation or two. A fellow rebel, if nothing else. And, apparently, a fellow Clone Wars veteran. ]

Hey, Cassian. Not sure if you want to talk about - it. I know it can be tough. I fought, too. If you need a listening ear, though. We all got told lies, back then. Especially those of us who were just kids.

video

[candor1]

[Feed now shows darkness, which proves to be the inside of a pocket, as the comm was pulled out of it. Then the trees of the woods in De Chima. Then finally Cassian's unutterably tired face.]

I've never really sorted through the ironies versus the lies. Didn't do much good, at that point, to look backward. Had to keep pressing forward.

…Which side

[if there were two sides]

were you?

video

[kanyounot]

[ Kanan doesn't miss the tiredness in the other man's voice. Not by a long shot. He's tempted to make this conversation private, but it might be good for others to see. ]

I was a Jedi Padawan. I was told the Separatists wanted to destroy the Republic. That the man at their head was evil, and so it was our job to oppose them.

We had no idea there was someone just as evil right there alongside us. Not me, not even the Masters, the Council. My own Master was ambivalent about it, even at the time, though.

I strongly suspect that Palpatine and Dooku worked together to engineer the whole thing, to achieve their own ends. But I have no proof. I was fourteen at the time, and I'd spent my entire life believing the Jedi were on the side of good.

video

[candor1]

[…yeah.

Though Cassian is hard-wired usually not to put too much of himself on the open network… This feels like… it's in response to something. Several things.
No more false memories, no more false narratives. Reality, please.
Why he answers also openly—blandly—unnecessarily]

I believed the Jedi were my enemies. But I didn't challenge it. I was too young to understand who I was fighting, or what I was fighting for. By the time I joined the Rebellion, Jedi and Separatists seemed equally forgotten.* The universe definitely seemed worse off for the loss of the Jedi than the loss of us.

[I strongly suspect…

On the video feed, Cassian's eyes go… blank. So fully, so quickly, it's shocking. Maybe that was how it had looked from the outside when he'd blacked out in Draven's office.

It's not the first time he'd heard that theory. Whether stated so baldly or not. There were so many bandied about, ranging from relatively calm tactical-historical analysis to full-blown conspiracy theorizing. That was one of the ones that was the most elegant, explained the most while staying itself the simplest. Also one of the hardest to entertain. Wrap one's mouth or lungs or guts around.
Palpatine and Dooku… together… engineer the whole thing…
The way Cassian reacted to the person of Dooku on a visceral level, like a family member he'd never had—the mythologizing had been so strongly installed…
Every cellmate who'd died. Every blow he'd received and dealt. How it turned out.

This time he doesn't get violent. After a moment, he simply… comes back. And says, softer and more distant still,]

That's a theory I've heard before. How better to justify militarization and consolidate power than to create an adversary. The thing the Separatists were fighting against… as created for us to fight as we were created to fight it.

[It's too hard to believe. It's the only explanation that really hangs together.
One lifetime lost to secrets and conspiracies…
It's useless to speculate if the foundations of the Republic would really have been crumbling if they weren't actively being pulled down. He'd been a double agent—wondered which side he was really serving, how much he was making self-fulfilling.
This is the weakness of our side, versus the Empire, isn't it… driven so fully by genuine conviction, can't help but assume the same of others… when really…
Two men. All those lives. Such petty purpose. It couldn't. The universe could not work that way.
The universe has always worked that way. ]

I did worse things for the Rebellion than I did for the Separatists. But I guess this is the thing I need to know more about. For the Rebellion… they were my decisions. For this…

I never looked for more. From either side. Just had to move forward.

[Guess it's time to look back.]

Can you tell me why you suspected it?

[Video]

[generalgrievous]

[There is some understanding in his voice, even if he can't relate to all of it.]

You started fighting young, as did I. Drawn into a conflict beyond our control.

[Except he's not talking of the Clone Wars but prior to them with the more personal Huk War.]

[video]

[candor1]

[The feed had gone dark; that's now revealed to be the inside of a pocket as the comm is pulled out of it. Now it's the trees of the De Chima woods. Now, finally, Cassian's face.

Looking tired but… also… almost quizzical, considering Grievous's response. That Grievous would choose to respond at all. Let alone, so…

…sympathetically?]

Yes, General. We were.

…It's hard to… I wonder if we'd not been so young, if we would have chosen the same.

People who would be my dearest friends and allies in the next war… we would have been on opposite sides of that first one.

Though they weren't happy with their side of it, either.

I don't think there was a winner of the Clone Wars.

Except the Emperor.

[video]

[generalgrievous]

I had been fighting battles for decades before the Clone Wars even began. It seems that the entire situation of that war may have been ...

[He pauses, considering what he's heard about the future and this new Empire.]

... a foolish enterprise. The outcome appears to have gone from one corruption to another, simply under a different name.

[video]

[candor1]

[Voice deadened]

It seems the entire situation of that war may have been rigged.

I've heard the theory before. Couldn't credit it. Couldn't bring myself. How could so few hijack the fate of so many. How often do conspiracies actually work. But… it does account for the most without itself getting complex.

How better to justify militarization and consolidate power than to create an adversary. The thing the Separatists were fighting against… as created for us to fight as we were created to fight it.

It's useless to speculate if the foundations of the Republic would really have been crumbling if they weren't actively being pulled down. I've been a double agent—wondered which side I was really serving, versus how much I was making self-fulfilling.

I don't know. But… hearing from more people who lived it, on both sides… and especially how it turned out…

All in all. Keeps getting harder to be skeptical of Lyyxo's take.

[Video]

[cadbane]

Was there a point to this little show?

[Video]

[candor1]

[The video had gone dark, which now proves itself to be the inside of a pocket, as the comm is drawn out; showing next the woods of De Chima; then Cassian's weary face.]

Obviously, that I need to redouble my efforts to learn to control this… 'power'.

[The curl of his lip states: Obviously it feels like something not a power at all.]

[Video]

[cadbane]

Power? What sort of power was this? To show everyone your... memories? By accident?

[That did sound very inconvenient.]

text.

[functusofficio]

I'm so sorry for all that you went through.

The betrayal of the Empire was hard on many, but it does not mean those who fought are at fault for it. It came through machinations none of us foresaw.

text.

[candor1]

thank you

i know

issue maybe not 'fault'

so much as

how to move forward

what lesson to learn

[He'd learned that intentions mean nothing, and aren't enough to try to match the impact you want to have with the impact you do have.

Though he'd taken it farther than he'd ever want anyone else to.]L

text.

[functusofficio]

Something perhaps we should all think on more often.

We are all fooled, sometimes.

We can strive to gain better understanding, in the future, and not move on only what others tell us, but ultimately we can only move forward with our lives.

video;

[reexamined]

Oh. I remember that. Surat and Lyyxo. That was the first time I got mad at you.

I didn't know about that part with Draven. Like I need even more of a reason to not like him.

video;

[candor1]

You had good reason.

(—usually do.)

What about that one is a reason?

[Some real confusion there. Never surprised that most people dislike Draven and many of the reasons for it—some of which are things Cassian values in him—and not about to point out the overlaps in the things others dislike but Cassian values about someone else (cough present company) too.

But this one…? That's one of Cassian's strongest memories of being… cared for. In a… parental?! way.

And it's not like his basis for comparison is horrifically skewed at all. Of course not.]

video;

[reexamined]

Everything regarding his ability to communicate leaves much to be desired. I don't believe he's ever once said something that could be considered empathetic.