Chapter Text
Kriffing hell, Melshi is going to murder Kay. He had been sleeping remarkably well, not a muscle spasm, fall out of the hammock, or nightmare in sight (perks of winning last night's rianza game against your favourite colleague best friend almost lover? bunkmate and his cheating murder droid) until maybe 5 seconds ago, when the door flew open and a very heavy set of footsteps unceremoniously jolted him out of his peace.
“Cassian. Cassian. Cassian.”
Melshi is going to rip the wiring out of K-2SO’s torso single handedly if given the chance anytime in the next thirty seconds.
“Cassian, wake u–oh. Sergeant, where is the captain?”
Melshi sits, shaking Kay’s large hand off his shoulder and gestures wordlessly at the hammock, which Kay had stomped right past not thirty seconds ago, out of which Cassian is already climbing, pulling his boots on. A quick glance between the two men tells Melshi it’d be wise for him to do the same, and he drowns out the sound of K-2SO explaining the apparent urgency of the situation as he forces himself vertical and moves through the half light to pull together his ‘just in case kit' – hat, goggles, blaster, mini medkit, for-any-occasion explosives, ration bar or two – and so on. Just the essentials you need when you’re a part of a rebel army with a very small budget.
“Cassian, could you please hurry up, General Draven is requesting your presence in the hangar. Immediately. Right now.”
Melshi finds himself very near picked up and hurled out the door by the droid, and is forced to exit the yurt at speeds he prefers to save for mission escapes on pain of almost certain death. Bugger this for a game of soldiers, he was tired. To make his early morning confusion worse, the general hadn’t even taken the time to brief them properly, just pulled Cassian close by the front of his jacket and murmured a few words into his ear. A stunted, weary looking nod and a quick hushed exchange was answer enough, and then he was up the ramp and in the ship, Kay trailing behind and calling out for Melshi to follow them, or so help him maker, he’d leave him behind.
Crouched uncomfortably in the back of the U-wing, eyes roaming over the silhouettes of Kay and Cassian, lit by the sunlight he’s reminded of a similar sight from not-long-enough ago. Him and Keef, the back of the speeder watching the Keredians pilot, lit in exactly the same way by the light from the sun bouncing off the water. He lets the thought go, physically shaking his head to be rid of it. Something to think about another time, when he’s not on mysterious, extremely urgent orders from Draven. Instead he leans sideways against the weapons crate and tries to pull his head together.
When they jump to hyperspace Cassian stands from the cockpit and joins Melshi in the back, leaving a comforting pat on Kay’s shoulder to signal his exit.
“ETA’s about—” he looks over his shoulder and Kay nods “—six hours.” It never fails to amaze Melshi how synchronised they are together. People probably think that of him and Cassian, after so long as table mates, and now game partners. They know each other's minds. As Melshi ponders this idly, Cass crouches and sits next to him with a grunt, like he has an old war wound bothering him. It strikes Melshi as he absent mindlessly rubs at his own bad knee that he probably does. They both do. Cassian bumps one leg into his and avoids his gaze. What is going to happen in six hours when they touch down wherever it is they’re heading? Cassian's bouncing his leg, thrumming with an anxious energy of a very different flavour to his standard state of restlessness.
“Cass…”
“I know,” He sighs and then gulps in a fresh breath as if to kickstart his breathing again, “This is not the best situation to put you in, but orders are orders and as always I haven’t got much choice.” Cassian falls silent again, and Melshi picks at his torn thumbnail, waiting. “A previous assignment, the targets have rapidly become of interest again and because I’ve already…” he smacks his lips once, twice, searching for the right word. “…infiltrated the cell, I’m the best person to go back in.”
Melshi nods. This makes sense. No sense in wasting another operative when the best — and nobody could argue that, Cassian was the best of them — could slip right back in as if he was never away. But why then, is Melshi being brought along for the ride?
“Usually we’d want you for obs, cover if we had to make an unplanned exit.” So he was the firepower behind the scenes? Difficult without the rest of his team, but he could make it happen. “But. Numbers game and a fight with the General means you’re coming in with me.” What?
“In, as in…?” Cassian just nods, mouth set in a thin line that Melshi can’t quite read. They sit looking at each other for a few tense seconds. Melshi runs his hand through what's left of his hair.
“Cass. I’m not Intelligence the way you are, I can’t — I don’t — I’ve not been trained Cass, I’ve not been briefed, I don’t even know where we’re going —”
“— Fondor”
“Right, okay we’re going to Fondor, and what exactly is it we’re doing there?” Melshi’s head hurts. An hour ago he was in Cassian’s very comfortable bed, and now he’s near tearing his hair out. Fighting he can do. Planning he can do. Extractions, explosions, causing a general nuisance to the Empire: all things he excels at, but this? Sneaking around, acting, never letting your guard down, even for a second? Just thinking about it makes cold beads of sweat form on his forehead.
“A local rebel cell are trying to plan something stupid, but there’s been a marked increase in Imperial presence — the general's got an informant who's involved — and the ISB are coming down harder than ever. Draven and Mothma’s fear is that if things go wrong, which they always do with this sort of thing, they'll be made an example of, and it could be another Ghorman.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly. I was working with these guys a year or so ago. And knowing what I know about what happened with the people on Ghorman, things here could easily get messy. Draven doesn't want someone going in alone, and you're the best man for the job.”
"Really?" he replies dryly, watching Cassian fiddle with a datapad as he speaks, handing it over to Melshi.
“Look, we’ve got hours before we’re even thinking about entering atmo. Everything you need to know should be in here, so study up, get a feel for things. I’ll be in the front with Kay if you need anything else, alright?”
Melshi nods weakly and looks down at the pad. Vaguely, over the sound of his own panicked thoughts, he hears Cassian’s knees creak as he stands and shuffles back to the cockpit.