Built on Hope (Cassian Andor FF)

12. Bhok Sivra

AN: Short update because the other half of this chapter was too long. So I cut it in half. Enjoy!

The memory of Talia's tortured handler, Montoya, clawed at the back of Cassian's mind. It screamed, yelled, pleaded to be heard over his other thoughts. He attempted to distract himself with work, but an unsettling feeling formed in the pit of his stomach. It's nothing.

He sat up on his creaky mattress, staring off into the distance as he calculated the length of his next trip out of Dantooine base. The Kathol Sector had been reportedly under attack, and presumably seized by the Empire. The trip could last days. Weeks, even. Way too long for Cassian's liking, especially if the Empire took control already. Not to mention, the sector was at the other edge of the galaxy.

The pain in his side had decreased as he steadied his breathing. The wound was healed for the most part, but he could still feel it. If he got into a fight, there was a possibility of pushing himself too hard, causing the pain to be much worse. He had to stay low, but he hated being cooped up in the base. He wanted out. He wanted to be free for a while. Cassian's mind ran with different thoughts about the Kathol sector, until another thought popped up, overshadowing everything else.

I forgot to check for heart beats...

The thought shook him out of planning mode; his mind gravitated to worry mode. If any bucket heads survived, they must've called it in. He set his head in his hands, remembering the moment he found Talia's dead handler. It was always a constant cycle of loss. The Rebellion could achieve a small win, only to get taken down in a big way. Losing any operative in the field was a huge loss on intelligence.

A part of him wanted to move on. He had spent too much time on Kuat, and any more time would draw attention. He didn't live there. He wasn't a regular. It was only suspicious. Cassian was needed elsewhere, somewhere he could save people. Gain intelligence. Foil the plots of yet another base full of Imperials and watch them run around in confused panic. General Draven would agree in a heartbeat.

But the other part of him clawed its way to the top. If the information had reached the Empire, the whole operation on Kuat was exposed. There would certainly be hell to pay, and Cassian didn't want to be on the receiving end of it. The operation supplied so much intelligence to the Alliance.

But it had been two weeks since the incident. Why wait this long?

Even if they hadn't, the Empire would know of some spy being there. It's not like the bucketheads killed themselves, or each other for that matter.

Cassian scrapped his plans. This was more important. The Alliance just scored a huge victory. There was no need for a loss as well. He contacted Talia's handler about a meeting. This would simply be a follow up. Make sure the Empire knew nothing.

The thought of it didn't ease his horrible gut feeling.

Paranoia.

Talia's new handler suffered from it. They sounded frantic over the transmission as if they hadn't slept in a couple days. They were convinced they were being watched, but didn't know by whom.

The only thing left to do was find out what was happening.

Cassian landed on Kuat and made his way to a well-known bar. People of all races bustled in the streets. Most were vendors, others beggars. Upbeat music blared in a building nearby; every time someone opened the door, the music blared out the sounds on the streets. He stayed low, moving with the crowd. Moving too fast drew suspicion. Moving too slow attracted attention. He kept a watchful eye on everyone that passed him.

Be there...

The state of the city had severely declined since he'd last seen it. Imperial storm troopers patrolled the streets in higher numbers. Some of them held random searches in the Imperial workers' homes. They flipped everything upside down, threw stuff around, and interrogated the workers, only to come up with innocent pleas. They had already begun to search out for the possibility of a rebel spy amongst their ranks, which meant they hadn't found Talia yet.

Cassian thought that to be a blessing.

He continued walking through the streets to get to the bar. His mind raced with possibilities of who could've been following the handler. Imperial spy. Another rebel. Double agent. Assassin. Bounty hunter. The odds weren't shining in the handler's favor.

Laughter and yelling erupted through the bar's walls. The sign read Hawkmoon, or at least that's what Cassian interpreted. His Kuat language skills were a little rusty. He opened the door and was immediately greeted by hot air and the heavy stench of alcohol and hot breath. He grimaced, but quickly flipped his expression to a blank one.

In order to blend in, he strolled up to the barkeep and ordered a drink. After paying an absurd price for it, he sat down at a booth on the side of the room. He relaxed against the back of the seat, his hand scratching at the skin underneath his scruff. Cassian's dark eyes trained on the green drink for a few moments before he started to steal glances around the place.

A music system played, the sounds bounced against the walls. People were talking and laughing to the point where it felt unbearably hot in the poorly conditioned room. A few species he had never seen before were scattered around the room, partying with friends or coworkers. Humans were plentiful, but clung dearly to half of the room. Must be a party. Cassian thought to himself. Other species, such as the womp rat-like Lutrillain, blue wide-eyed Duros, and the snake-like Lamproid were laughing loudly as they engaged in a friendly competition of Dejarik.

No one too suspicious.

Yet it still nagged at Cassian. Here he was, minutes passed the meet up time, and the handler was a no show. Someone paranoid to that extent wouldn't miss something like this. Situations like these were life or death. He drank a few gulps of the thick liquid he purchased and cleared his throat after. Remain calm and collected. The handler is fine.

Fifteen more minutes passed.

Cassian did another clean sweep around the bar, glancing around to notice anything suspicious. The handler must've gotten killed. There's no wa- Someone caught his eye on the other side of the room and broke him out of his thoughts.

A Shistavanen sitting at the bar. Given her wolf-like appearance, it was difficult not to notice her. The muzzle, sharp teeth, pointed ears, glowing gold eyes, all of it entranced Cassian for a moment. They were a rare sight out in the field, even though they had a few back at the base. Shistavanen were isolationists and hardly were seen outside of their populated planets. Cassian had looked into their species for a while after gaining intelligence on their popular employment types, such as Imperial scouts, mercenaries, and bounty hunters. He never thought he'd see one as an Imperial with his own eyes.

Cassian got up and started making his way towards the door. It was nearly ten minutes before Talia had to meet up at the dead drop, and he was sure that's where the bounty hunter was headed next. As he passed by the bar, he could overhear the Shistavanen speak.

Her voice was low, almost gutteral at first as she cleared her throat, "Put on my tab. Be back in hour."

"I need a name," the bartender replied, serving up a few more drinks to the patrons on the side.

"Bhok Sivra."

I'll call it in when I get the chance. Right now, I have to beat her to the drop. Cassian thought as he blended in with the crowd in the street. He kept his head low, eyes searching around frantically for a glimpse of the rebel spy. He released a soft exhale, calming his on-end nerves. I'll find Talia. Drop her off at the base. I might even get a mission from Draven if I can prove I'm healthy enough to go back out in the field. It's a win-win.