[for her entire life, the story has never changed. it's been one force versus another, battling it out, annihilating all in their path as they do — one, yes, utterly evil, but the other not much better, in most of the ways that count. one force versus another, creating a black hole that sucks in everything.

the landscape that cassian lays out for her is no different. there are different names now, yes, different people and different goals (at least by appearances), but everything remains the same as what she's always known. the powerful playing games with people's lives, without any regard whatsoever to the destruction they rain down upon them.

running, she'd once thought, running and staying out of sight, living in the cracks that no one bothers to look for, had been acceptable choices — ways to avoid what she's always known to be true. what she hadn't needed jedha or eadu or scarif to know to be true, but what after them, there's no real choice but to face.

she can read between the lines of what cassian isn't saying: avoiding isn't an option.

and she could be sick to her stomach, making the thoughts of food from just ten minutes ago wholly unappealing. she could scream; she could rage. she could do all of these things at once, but nothing will change the truth: it's all a waste.

everything but an action plan is a waste.

she's silent for a time, letting all this horrible shit sink in; she doesn't know how long. then, finally:]

So you're saying we choose one of these stupid factions. [the we is emphasized as much by the word itself as it is the continued grip on his hand, and the hold her gaze has on his. they're not in this alone — no matter what.] We choose one, and we take the tactical advantage. And from there, we....

[she falters, the gears in her mind grinding to a halt; they can only get so far without help.]

We figure it out?