There are lots of fix-it stories for Rogue One; this is mine. It's all done; chapters will be released after I have edited them to my liking, and they will vary widely in length. I'll try to get each chapter out after a couple of days, and I will probably return and tweak things (like where I find more typos...) here and there.

To give you an inkling of what follows, this story was originally titled Testimony, but I ended up preferring the title I've given it now. I've attempted to keep the entire thing to canon, with the obvious exception of the deaths of Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor on Scarif, but please forgive me where things slip.

I think this might be my favourite fanfiction I've written. I had three days off work, and I was writing until dawn, and I loved the experience of watching these amazing characters, reading tons of material on Wookiepedia, and being painfully sleep-deprived. So, y'know, don't be a troll, and please enjoy.

DISCLAIMER: no, I'm not making any money from this, no, most of the characters aren't mine, rights belong to George Lucas and bunch of other people, blah blah.

THE FORCE OF OTHERS

I'm one with the Force, and the Force is with me. I'm one with the Force, and the Force is with me. I'm -

We. We are one with the Force, and the Force is with us.

Ye-yeah. We're one with the Force, and the Force… the Force is with us.

We're one with the Force, and the Force is with us.

We're one with the Force, and the Force is with us. We're one with the Force, and the Force is with us. We're one with the Force, and the Force is with us.

And we fear nothing, for all is as the Force wills it.

Before the Death Star even appeared out of hyperspace, as the shield over Scarif disintegrated, a single U-wing ship pulled away and dived towards the surface.

PILOT

Look, I... I don't know why I chose to sprint to Scarif to look for survivors, okay?

What had I been thinking? I mean, really... what was I thinking?! No one asked me to do it, there were no orders, no expectations. I didn't really know any of the crew of Rogue One, as they'd called themselves; I owed none of them anything, and I wouldn't have mourned their passing in any particular way other than to honour them as the heroes that they were. I had no reason to go.

Up until then I'd done my best; I was meant to deploy additional ground troops to support them on the beach, but I had to pull up when the shield over Scarif was reactivated, so I did as I was told and returned everyone to the Tantive IV. I had been reporting in when…

… The Force is with us.

I didn't think at all. Absolutely nothing at any conscious level. I simply turned around, went back to the U-wing, and set course as fast as the shuttle could. I could hear on the edge of my awareness shouts from Hangar Control to stop, but I didn't, and no one did more than shout. The locks on the ship weren't on; nothing was in my way.

I nearly crashed in the sand, yanking the nose of the ship up at the last moment and set the computer to look for anyone still living. The beach was littered with the unmoving, be it dressed in worn dark cotton or polished white shielding. Amongst all the dead Rebels and Stormtroopers there was even a monk and a mercenary. I saw the Death Star appear in the blue sky, saw the green beam strike the tower, turning the satellite dish to ash. Saw the mushroom cloud on the horizon… finally, the computer beeped a result.

A man and woman, collapsed to their knees at the water's edge, hands clasped together, waited for death.

Maybe... maybe it was a good thing that I wasn't thinking. For a moment - with annihilation coming, every nanosecond counted - the two just stared at the blaster-scarred shuttle, as though they couldn't believe I was there, that there was a way out. And then the face of the woman morphed to something extraordinary... I had never seen anyone look as determined as she did. She scrambled to her feet, yanked up the man into her arms, taking his weight on her shoulders and dragged him to their salvation, screamed at me to go already before she had even swung herself on, having nearly thrown her companion on to the deck first.

The shuttle turned slowly, or so it felt, as the death-cloud hurtled towards us, roaring hungrily. The man limped painfully into the co-pilot's seat and started punching in the calculations to jump into hyperspace, anywhere that was not here.

"We'll never make it otherwise…" he said. The woman stood right behind him, watching the Death Star's shockwave as the shuttle turned away from it, her hand on his shoulder, her knuckles whitening as our odds dwindled.

I didn't know this, would never know this, but neither these two had ever cared about odds.

The hull of the shuttle rattled from sand flicking against -

"Punch it."

I'd never jumped to hyperspace so close to a planet before. I'd always been told that it was not advised. I wish I'd known earlier that the man sat next to me was Cassian Andor, and that only a few days ago he'd done the same jump in near the exact same circumstances; it might have reassured me in that moment. Nevertheless, the streaking stars had never looked so beautiful… for a moment there I thought I would never see this sight again.

He didn't see them. The strain of the jump was too much on his injuries, and he lost consciousness. Whilst I was in awe of the stars, she was yelling his name the instant his head rolled.

I still wasn't thinking. I couldn't help but watch her. She was so… she turned his chair around, took in his paled, clammy face and grasped it in her hands, pleading with him to not leave her now, to not leave her too.

Stardust…

It was when she said 'too' that I started keying in the co-ordinates of Yavin IV. It simply didn't register to me that it was against protocol to proceed straight to the base, lest anyone follow us. He needed help, she needed help. Help was at the base. I made the jump.

I think my first proper thoughts were when my feet touched the ground. The instant we dropped out of hyperspace I had to transmit the security codes so we wouldn't be shot down by our own, had to request immediate medical support upon landing. The whole time she held on to him, tears streaming down that extraordinary face. Even when they lifted Captain Andor on to the stretcher she wouldn't let go of his hand, ran at his side as they wheeled him in.

My first thought was, 'who was she...?'

I don't... I don't have any answers. I've only got even more questions. I don't know why I saved them. I really... I really don't. Stop giving me credit for it, and stop giving me crap for it. I don't know.

I heard snippets around the base over the days after. Everyone was sorrowful after the bloodbath at Scarif, anxious about the fate of Princess Leia and the fleet. Not many of those who left for Scarif came back. I found out their names, Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor, the only two survivors of Scarif. I got teased and congratulated in equal measure for saving their lives out of stupidity and bravery. I found out about Rogue One, and what they'd risked everything for.

I'm glad I found out before Alderaan.

Last edited: 25/05/2017.