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[He closed his eyes against the green-white kyberlight, not out of fear: out of total lack of interest. All he wanted to think about, to feel, in this far better death than he could ever have hoped for on his own, was Jyn Erso.
Then nothing. He opened his eyes, momentarily blinded by the relative darkness, and the light gone purple.
And Jyn was gone from his arms.
He blinked rapidly to adjust his eyes, spotted the purple vortex, tried to launch himself back through it. He failed.
What…
the…
pfassking…
hell
A barrage of theories went through his brain, shuffling like cards, but none could be prioritized or eliminated without more data.
The welcome packet helped not at all. Whatever planet this was, they believed in magic. In Cassian's experience, "magic" was what you called technology or science you didn't understand yet. Maybe he was incapable of understanding it too, but that didn't make it more helpful.
His injuries no longer hurt. Nonetheless, he had to push down he sick he felt, the loss of Jyn from his arms like an amputation—and how ready he'd been to be finished.
Instead, he examined the comm ("smartphone") and its instructions. Nothing for it. He turned it on and raised it to speaking range.]